


The Tristan Betrayal

by JediMaster_Jen



Series: The Tristan Kenobi Series [2]
Category: Star Wars
Genre: Alternate Universe, Complete, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-27 01:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 44
Words: 73,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7598989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediMaster_Jen/pseuds/JediMaster_Jen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chronicles the events that bring Anakin back to Coruscant and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Star Wars and LucasFilm both belong to Disney (the Mouse House) not me. I am not making ant money from this. 
> 
> This story was originally posted on the Jedi Council Forums at TheForce.net in September 2012 by myself and KELIA. We wrote together through chapter 37, at which point i completed the fic in April 2015.

**The Tristan Betrayal**

 

 **Summary:** Sequel to _Will of the Force._ Chronicles the events that bring Anakin back to Coruscant and beyond.

 

 

 **Disclaimer:** Star Wars belong to George Lucas, not us.

 

 

 

** Chapter 1 **

 

/

 

 ** _Six Years before Will of the Force_**  

 

/

 

_Siri lay against the pillows, limbs entwined with Obi-Wan’s, his fingers laced through her hair. Smiling lazily, she kissed his bare chest, snuggling closer to him._

_“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she sighed. ”I feel so at peace when we’re together.”_

_Obi-Wan kissed her forehead gently, lightly tracing his finger over her face, caressing her mouth._

_“You are always with me wherever I go,” he whispered cupping her cheeks and lifting her head to meet his loving gaze. “I found true happiness when I opened my heart to you.”_

_His embrace tightened into a protective hold. “My heart is forever joined with yours,” he stated firmly bringing her lips to his._

 

/

 

_Siri awoke with a start. She had been doing that a lot lately, dreaming of Obi-Wan and their happiest times together. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she sat up and quickly sank back down as the all too familiar waves of dizziness and nausea washed over her. Sighing, she turned to bury her face into her pillow hoping the symptoms would pass…if she were just still for another minute…Groaning, she threw the covers back and raced into the fresher, unable to deny the truth she’d been desperately avoiding these last few weeks – she was pregnant._

 

/

 

_Siri sat uneasily on one of the softly rounded pod chairs in Yoda’s simply furnished quarters. She fidgeted nervously, struggling to find the right words. She always hated the idea of disappointing the diminutive Master. Yoda gazed at her calmly, waiting patiently for her to begin._

_“Master Yoda, I…” Siri’s voice faltered as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ve come to resign from the Jedi Order.”_

_If Yoda was shocked, he didn’t show it. He simply continued to gaze at her compassionately._

_“I’ve just recently learned I’m…well that…something has happened.” Siri squared her shoulders, meeting Yoda’s gaze directly._

_“I’m pregnant,” she announced._

_“Required to leave the Order, you are not,” Yoda replied simply._

_“I know,” Siri acknowledged with a grimace. “I’ve seen other Jedi have their children and turn them over to the crèche, never being able to tell them who they are or be a part of their lives other than as a fellow Jedi, and I know I would be expected to do the same and I just can’t.”_

_Tears filled her eyes. “I can’t just have this baby and walk away. I can’t carry this child, feel him or her growing inside me, becoming a part of me and then just…let go. I can’t.”_

_“Walk away you would not,” Yoda argued. “Watch as the child grows into a strong Jedi you would.”_

_“It’s not enough,” Siri snapped._

_Yoda’s eyes widened._

_“I’m sorry, Master Yoda,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean…it’s just so…I never thought this would happen,” she burst into tears._

_Yoda took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The Force was speaking to him. This child of Obi-Wan and Siri would be strong with the Force and need much guidance. More than Siri could give him alone._

_Yoda stood from his chair and hobbled over to Siri, patting her arm gently._

_“Know, does Obi-Wan?”_

_Siri gasped in shock, her head snapping up to meet Yoda’s stare._

_“You...you…you know about Obi-Wan?” she stumbled._

_Yoda nodded. “A long time have I watched you and Obi-Wan. Always together, always staring at each other,” he grinned broadly. “Subtle you were not.”_

_Siri felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment._

_“Understand the need for companionship I do,” Yoda continued softly. “Forbidden, it is not.”_

_Siri nodded, wiping her tears. ”But loving him is forbidden and…and I do love him.”_

_“Tell him when he returns you must. Help you to decide what to do Obi-Wan will.”_

_“I can’t,” Siri argued._

_Yoda’s eyes narrowed._

_“Please, Master Yoda, just listen,” Siri said as she stood and began to pace. “I’ve watched Obi-Wan with Anakin over the years. I’ve seen the bond between them grow. Obi-Wan loves Anakin like a son. He would never be able to give his own child up to the crèche and walk away any more then I can.”_

_She dropped back down into the chair. “That’s why I have to leave before he returns.”_

_“Know about this child Obi-Wan should. Allowed to make up his own mind he should be,” Yoda declared firmly._

_“I can’t do that to him,” Siri groaned. “I’ve already decided I’m leaving and I know Obi-Wan.”_

_She looked squarely into Yoda’s eyes. “I know he would come after me and I can’t let that happen. Anakin needs him too much. The Order needs him too much.”_

_Yoda sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping. “Go where, will you?”_

_Siri thought quietly for a few moments. “Corellia,” she announced. “I’ve heard it’s a beautiful planet and I have no ties there.”_

_Yoda nodded. “Accept your resignation I do.”_

_“Thank you,” Siri breathed._

_“But agree with your decision I do not,” Yoda tapped his gimmer stick forcefully._

_Siri hung her head._

_“Keep your secret from Obi-Wan I will,” Yoda continued. “If keep in touch I may.”_

_“Oh…of course,” Siri gulped, clearly surprised at his request._

_“If help you need, be there I will,” Yoda promised._

 

/

 

_Siri slowly sat before the holo-recorder and activated the device._

_“My dearest Obi-Wan,” Siri smiled sadly. “I’m so sorry to have to leave this way, without a proper good-bye, but it’s necessary that I leave now…” she paused, searching for the right words. “I’ve grown to love you so much, I…too much,” she blinked away the tears threatening to fall. She was determined to get through this._

_“I must have been crazy to think I could be with you and not fall truly, deeply in love and we both know there can be no happy ending if I stay…but I want you to know I don’t regret one minute of our time together. They were the happiest of my life…and Obi-Wan, please believe…” Siri looked directly into the holo cam, “…my heart is forever joined with yours.”_

_Siri stopped the recording, finally allowing the tears to fall freely down her cheeks. ‘How I wish things could be different,’ she thought, placing the recorder on Obi-Wan’s desk. Taking one last look around his quarters, she bid a final, silent good-bye before turning and leaving the Temple for good._


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2 **

 

/

 

**Five Years after Will of the Force-Present Day**

 

/

 

 

The view was majestic from atop the massive flight of stairs leading to the Jedi Temple. After the climb, Siri was gasping for breath as the last of the painful spasms left her body.

 

“Mom?” a small hand tentatively patted her back. ”Are you okay?”

 

“I’ll be all right sweetheart,” she replied, smiling weakly at her ten-year old son. Reaching out for his hand, she gestured toward the entrance to the Temple with the other.

 

“This is it, Tristan,” Siri whispered to the boy. A flood of memories washed over her as they gazed silently at the doors. So much had happened since she left eleven years ago but it still seemed like yesterday when she and Obi-Wan…

 

“Do you think they’ll be glad to see us?” Tristan’s voice cracked with uncertainty.

 

“Of course,” Siri chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his wavy light brown hair. _‘So much like Obi-Wan’s,’_ she thought with a twinge of sadness.

 

“You remember all the times Master Yoda came to visit us?”

 

Tristan nodded.

 

“He always said we would be welcome here anytime,” she continued.

 

As if on cue, the doors swung open revealing a young Mirialan woman.

 

“Hello,” she greeted walking towards them. “My name is…”

 

“Barriss Offee!” Siri exclaimed.

 

Barriss' eyes suddenly widened in recognition. “Master Tachi! It’s wonderful to see you again.” 

 

Siri greeted the younger Jedi in the same fashion. She noticed that Barriss was looking at Tristan curiously.

 

“This is my son, Tristan,” Siri announced, putting her arm around his shoulders. Siri felt the shock wave wash over Barriss, though she showed no outward reaction to the news.

 

“Tristan,” Barriss said as she reached to shake his hand warmly. “Welcome to the Jedi Temple.”

 

“Thank you,” Tristan mumbled softly.

 

Siri squeezed his shoulders, knowing he felt Barriss’ reaction as well and hoping he would be prepared for more of the same. He had known from an early age of her decision to leave the Jedi Order without announcing her pregnancy and as hard as she tried to prepare him for their arrival, she knew the reality would be tough for him.

 

“We were hoping to meet with Master Yoda,” Siri added.

 

“I’m sure he’d be pleased to meet with you,” Barriss replied. “Why don’t I escort you to the Council Chamber? You can wait there while I inform Master Yoda of your arrival.”

 

//

 

Siri held tightly to Tristan’s small hand as the pair was lead to the High Council Chamber. Word of her return had spread quickly throughout the Temple and greeting all her old friends on her way to the chamber helped to settle her nerves. She had expected a private meeting with Yoda and was stunned when she was told that the entire Jedi Council would be present.

 

“You may enter now,” said the young Padawan on duty at the reception desk outside the chamber.

 

The huge double door to the High Council Chamber swung open. Siri squeezed Tristan’s hand and smiled down at him encouragingly.

 

“Masters,” Siri bowed formally before the Council while Tristan looked around in awe.

 

“Good to see you again it is,” Yoda stated, eyes twinkling.

 

“Thank you,” Siri replied. “It’s good to be back.”

 

She took a moment to look around at the twelve Jedi Masters sitting before her.

 

She paused for a moment before speaking. _I may as well do this all at once,_ Siri thought. “I’d like to introduce you to my son, Tristan…Tristan Kenobi, my son with Obi-Wan.”

 

While the shock emanating from the room wasn’t as strong as it had been with Barriss Offee, it was still palpable. Some part of her was glad to know she could still shock them.

 

“Well Tristan, it’s nice to meet you,” Mace Windu’s powerful voice was surprisingly tender. “Perhaps you’d like to spend some time with the Initiates in the crèche while we talk with your mother?”

 

“No,” Siri interjected quickly, hugging him to her. “I…I’ve come…” she took a deep breath, desperately trying to will away the tears that were already beginning to form.

 

“I’ve come to ask a very special favor and it involves Tristan,” she swallowed before continuing. “Masters, I’m…dying.”

 

Tristan buried his head in Siri’s chest, allowing his tears to fall. He knew his mother was dying from a rare disease she had contracted several years before, and he understood death, but it wasn’t easy to face losing her.

 

“I’d like Tristan to complete his Jedi training here at the Temple.”

 

Mace sat back in his chair, stunned by her announcement.

 

“Are you sure about your prognosis?” Mace questioned. “Perhaps one of the healers…”

 

“I’m sure,” Siri answered solemnly. “I’ve seen many healers already. My condition is permanent and I am going to die; soon.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Siri,” Garen Muln spoke up, praying to whatever gods would listen that he wasn’t about to lose another friend. “We all are.”

 

Tristan tightened his grip around her waist, tears subsiding.

 

“Well…ah…has Tristan received any training?” Mace asked gently.

 

“Yes,” Siri nodded. “I’ve trained him since he was a baby, though probably not as well as he would have been had he been here,” she smiled down at him, wiping his tears with the tips of her fingers.

 

“But his skills are developed beyond most ten-year olds.”

 

“Granted your request is,” Yoda answered immediately, ignoring the surprised looks from the rest of the Council.

 

“Thank you,” Siri replied. “I’m prepared to leave him as soon as…”

 

“No,” Yoda interrupted. “Stay here you will.”

 

Siri stared at him in shock. “But Master Yoda, I…”

 

“Your family the Jedi are,” Yoda reminded her. “Take care of you we will.”

 

Siri was speechless.

 

“Prepared, your old quarters are,” Yoda continued, his gaze compassionate. “Welcome home.”

 

“Thank you,” Siri said as she bowed once more before leaving with Tristan.

 

//

 

“We should begin with testing the boy’s abilities,” Mace began.

 

“I agree,” Kit Fisto replied. “We can…”

 

Fisto trailed off when he and the others in the room noticed that Yoda had ceased paying them any attention. He had closed his eyes and was blocking out the sounds around him.

 

The Force was speaking to its most trusted champion.

 

//

 

_“Good, you’re improving,” Anakin Skywalker complimented thirteen year-old Tristan as the young man sparred with another apprentice.”_

 

//

 

_”Sometimes things happen that we just can’t control, Tris,” Anakin told the young sixteen year-old Jedi student. “We’re here to help, but we can only help those that want our assistance. The Force is a formidable ally in any situation, but so is the heart. Let your heart guide you and you won’t step wrong.”_

 

//

 

_”I can’t believe you tossed me into the lake,” nineteen year-old Tristan commented._

_“You deserved it,” Anakin quipped._

_Several moments passed before both men broke into delighted laughter. They clasped their arms over each other’s shoulders as they walked away from the lake._

 

//

 

Yoda opened his eyes and turned back to face his fellow Jedi Masters in the room.

 

“A vision I have had,” he announced.

 

“Vision of what, Master?” asked Plo Koon.

 

“Tristan Kenobi and Master Skywalker,” Yoda answered. “Entwined their destinies are.”

 

“You’re certain?” Mace asked incredulously.

 

“Yes,” Yoda nodded, eyes narrowing. “Contact Master Skywalker on Naboo we should. Request that he return to Coruscant we will.”

 

“Master Yoda,” Garen interjected. “I’d like to request permission to travel to Naboo and speak with Anakin personally.”

 

“Granted your request is,” Yoda replied.

 

“Impress upon him the importance of this request,” Mace added. “If Yoda is right, it is most likely imperative that Anakin trains the boy.”

 

”Yes Master,” Garen replied as he stood from his chair. “I’ll bring Anakin home.”

 

Garen bowed respectfully then turned and swept from the room, his dark cloak billowing out behind him as he walked.

 

“Will Skywalker return?” Kit Fisto wondered aloud.

 

“For Kenobi’s son, return he will,” Yoda proclaimed.


	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter 3 **

 

**Fourteen Days Later**

**Naboo**

 

Garen Muln arrived at Padme and Anakin’s Varykino villa in the early afternoon. He paused for a moment, studying the peaceful countryside, noting the various flowers scattered throughout the landscape, the sun creating a glare on the lake, the sounds of the birds chirping. _‘What a perfect place to raise children,’_ he thought.

 

Sighing and shaking his head at the direction his thoughts had wandered, he rang the doorbell wishing this trip wasn’t overcast with bad news.

 

“Good afternoon Knight Muln,” C3PO greeted in a chipper voice. “Please come in.”

 

He stepped aside, gesturing for Garen to enter. “I’m sure Master Anakin and Miss Padme will be delighted to see you.”

 

“Thank you, 3PO,” Garen replied as he followed 3PO into the small living room, cluttered with children’s toys.

 

“Uncle Gawen!”

 

Garen turned to see three-year-old Arik running towards him as fast as his chubby legs could carry him.

 

“Hello young one,” Garen laughed sweeping him up and twirling him around. Arik threw his head back, screaming with laughter.

 

“Garen, how nice to see you again,” Padme strode towards him with a warm smile set on her beautiful face. “What brings you all the way out here?”

 

Garen set Arik down, ruffling his hair playfully.

 

“I need to speak with Anakin,” he replied softly.

 

“More! More!” Arik demanded, tugging on Garen’s leg.

 

“Perhaps later, little one,” Garen promised as Padme bent down to pick the young boy up.

 

“Anakin is outside with Luke and Leia,” she told him, hoisting her squirming son onto her hip. “Is it serious?”

 

Garen nodded. “I’m afraid so. Perhaps you could join us in a few minutes?”

 

“I wanna pway!” Arik struggled in Padme’s arms.

 

“I’ll have 3PO take Arik,” Padme nodded. “I should be out in a minute.”

 

“I pway with fee-pee-o, I pway with fee-pee-o!” Arik sang.

 

Garen couldn’t help but chuckle at the youngest Skywalker child. The boy was bright and happy, as every child should be. It was obvious that Anakin and Padme were doing a wonderful job with their children. He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he made his way to the yard.

 

//

 

Garen stepped outside, stopping in the shadows as he watched five-year-old Luke and Leia brandishing their miniature lightsabers against the floating training droid. Anakin stood off to the side, calling out instructions and words of encouragement.

 

Garen smiled as he watched Anakin’s eyes light up with pride as he watched his children deflect bolt after bolt. Garen recognized the look immediately; it was the same look he often saw on Obi-Wan’s face every time Anakin would accomplish something.

 

Anakin suddenly glanced up, having sensed Garen’s presence.

 

“Okay, time for a break,” he announced to the children, shutting off the training droid.

 

“Aw, Dad!” Luke protested while Leia happily switched off her lightsaber.

 

“We have company,” Anakin replied, pointing to Garen.

 

“Uncle Garen!” the twins yelled happily as they ran to him, hugging him tightly.

 

“I can deflect all the shots by myself!” Luke bragged excitedly. “Wanna see?”

 

“I wanna show Uncle Garen my new dolls,” Leia cried, tugging on his arm.

 

“I watched you training,” Garen replied, patting Luke’s shoulder. “You did well. You even remind me a little bit of your father when I first met him. I’m very impressed.”

 

Luke beamed at him.

 

“Leia,” he smiled down at her. “I’ll be happy to come see your new dolls after I speak with your father, okay?”

 

Leia nodded glumly.

 

“Why don’t you two go inside and play with Arik for a while,” Anakin suggested as he approached.

 

“Race ya!” Luke called out dashing towards the villa, Leia right behind him.

 

“Master,” Anakin called as he embraced Garen warmly. “It’s good to see you again, my friend.”

 

His smile disappeared as he studied the stern expression on Garen’s face.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m afraid I’m here on official business,” Garen replied solemnly.

 

“It’s…” he broke off as Padme emerged from the villa and headed towards them.

 

“It must be serious,” Anakin murmured.

 

They were silent as they waited for Padme to join them. Garen watched Anakin’s face light up when Padme got near. He could see and sense the love they shared between them.

 

“Why don’t we have a seat,” Anakin offered, leading Garen and Padme towards a bench facing the lake.

 

“I’m sorry to begin my visit like this,” Garen smiled weakly as they sat on the bench. ”I wish…”

 

Padme took Anakin’s hand, squeezing it firmly.

 

“Siri has returned to the Temple,” Garen stated plainly, pausing to gage Anakin’s reaction. “With her son.”

 

Anakin’s head snapped up in shock. Padme’s eyes widened. Anakin had mentioned Siri Tachi on occasion, having told her that the blonde Jedi had been one of Obi-Wan’s best friends and that she’d taken an interest in his own integration into life at the Jedi Temple when he was a child.

 

“Her…she has a…son?” Anakin gasped.

 

Garen nodded. “His name is Tristan. He’s Obi-Wan’s son.”

 

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin repeated, shaking his head in amazement. “Did he…he never said…”

 

“He didn’t know,” Garen replied. “Nobody knew, except for Master Yoda. I got the feeling that he knew about the boy long before Siri returned to the Temple.”

 

“I can’t believe it,” Anakin sighed.

 

”Neither could I,” Garen acknowledged.

 

“I never knew Obi-Wan and Siri…” Anakin’s voice trailed off, cheeks reddening.

 

“Well, they did try to be discreet,” Garen laughed.

 

”You knew?” Padme questioned.

 

Garen smiled softly. “Yes, I knew. I was the only person that knew.”

 

“I remember when she left,” Anakin whispered. “Obi-Wan went crazy. He practically tore her quarters apart looking for some clue as to where she went, going on and on about how he was going to find her and bring her back.”

 

Garen nodded. “Yes. He was determined to search the galaxy for her until Master Yoda got a hold of him. Whatever Master Yoda said to him convinced him to let her go, that she had her reasons for leaving.”

 

“When he came back to our quarters, he cloistered himself in his room for two days, refusing to come out,” Anakin sighed. “He wouldn’t even talk to me.”

 

He hung his head, tears filling his clear blue eyes. “I wish he would have talked to me.”

 

Garen squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. “Obi-Wan didn’t talk to anybody about her, Anakin. He kept her in the corner of his heart that was closed off to everyone but her. Beyond telling me that they were together, he didn’t even speak to me about her.”

 

Padme rubbed Anakin’s back as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

 

Garen cleared his throat. “Unfortunately there’s more bad news.”

 

Anakin met his sad gaze. _'What more could there possibly be,'_ he thought.

 

“Siri is dying.”

 

Anakin closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. His heart was breaking all over again; the parts he’d thought had finally managed to heal over the last five years. Old wounds were more powerful that he thought.

 

Tears filled Padme’s eyes. “That poor child.”

 

“I’m afraid so,” Garen continued. “She brought Tristan to the Temple to complete his training and…”

 

He hated having to lay this much on Anakin all at once, but there was little choice. Yoda had made his mission clear. Anakin was to return to the Temple.

 

“Master Yoda had a vision concerning you and Tristan.”

 

“Me?” Anakin asked in bewilderment.

 

“He feels your destinies are entwined and he’d like you to return to Coruscant and train the boy.”

 

Anakin was speechless.

 

“It’s a lot to absorb all at once, I realize that,” Garen acknowledged, rising to his feet. “And I know you and Padme will need to discuss it first, so why don’t I go check on the children while you two talk.”

 

He smiled down at Anakin. “For the record, I think Obi-Wan would be honored to have you train his son, and if you do indeed return, which I truly hope you will, I think Tristan will be lucky to have you as well. Just maybe you two can help each other heal.”


	4. Chapter 4

** Chapter 4 **

 

/

 

Hours later Anakin sat in stunned silence; his mind still reeling from all the news Garen had delivered. Part of him was devastated at the thought of having to say goodbye to another dear friend. Even though he hadn’t seen Siri in over eleven years, he’d never forgotten how kind she’d been to him from the moment they met. Over the years he’d thought of her often, hoping she was well.

 

The other part of him, the part that still longed for any connection to Obi-Wan, no matter how small, was still trying to comprehend the news of her son; Obi-Wan’s son. Obi-Wan had a son. That thought both saddened Anakin and gave him a sense of calm.

 

He smiled sadly as he thought of everything he’d experienced with his own children from the overwhelming joy of watching them being born to their first smiles, their first words, their first steps…it pained him to know of how much Obi-Wan missed out on.

 

”Are you alright, Ani?” Padme asked softly from beside him.

 

“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly, his eyes focused on his boots.

 

The council wanted him to train the boy. No, he corrected himself; Master Yoda wanted him to train Tristan. Anakin knew better than to not take one of Yoda’s visions seriously. If his vision was correct, he needed to train Tristan. Closing his eyes, he reached out to the Force for guidance. All he could sense was the gentle prodding from the Force as it urged him to return to Coruscant. There was nothing specific, but Anakin had already made his decision. He would return to the city-planet and he would train Obi-Wan’s son as Yoda had asked.

 

He turned to face Padme, giving her a lopsided grin. Taking her hand in his, he kissed it tenderly.

 

“What do you think of all this?” he asked hesitantly, praying she would understand.

 

Padme returned his smile, squeezing his hand. “I think it’s time we return to Coruscant.”

 

Anakin sat back in surprise. “Are...are you sure?”

 

Padme nodded.

 

“The Council needs you,” she pointed out. “Obi-Wan’s son needs you and I know how much you’ve missed being at the Temple. Being involved from here on certain decisions hasn’t been enough for you.”

 

Anakin let out a sigh of relief, taking her into his arms. He had prayed to the Force that she would understand, but nothing compared to actually _knowing_ that she did.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the peaceful life you desired,” he whispered against her ear. “I know how much you wanted to…”

 

Padme kissed his cheek softly, interrupting him. “It’s okay, Ani,” she assured him, pulling back to look him in the eye.

 

”But you loved being here like this, just being a family,” he reminded her.

 

“Yes, I’ve loved what we’ve had these last five years but the truth is, I really miss the Senate and I’d kind of like to get back into politics somehow.”

 

Anakin blinked at her in disbelief. “You miss politics?” he teased.

 

Padme playfully punched his arm. “You miss the Council?” she shot back.

 

Anakin laughed. “Well, I guess we’re going back to Coruscant then,” he said softly.

 

They stood and together went in search of Garen and their children.

 

“I never imagined that we’d only be here for five years,” Anakin commented as they approached Luke, Leia, Arik and Garen. “I assumed that we’d…”

 

Padme reached for his hand as his words trailed off. “I know; so did I. But, things change Anakin. The Jedi need you now and you can’t turn your back on them any more than you could turn your back on our family. I love that about you, you know.”

 

They shared a soft kiss.

 

“Ewww!” Luke called when he saw his parents kissing.

 

“Did you decide?” Garen inquired gently.

 

Anakin cleared his throat. “Yes. We’re going back.”

 

//

 

**Two Weeks Later**

**The Jedi Temple**

**Coruscant**  

 

Anakin strode purposefully through the Jedi Temple, his dark cloak billowing out behind him. He greeted his old friends and colleagues quickly, not breaking stride as he headed to Siri’s quarters. He needed to see her again before his meeting with the Council and he hoped she would be up to a visit.

 

As he passed a training room, a sudden motion caught his eye. He stopped to study the young boy sparring quite impressively against another initiate.

 

“Obi-Wan,” he gasped a moment later. The resemblance was undeniable and everything about the boy’s fighting technique from the defensive stance to the parrying moves was almost an exact duplicate of his former Master.

 

 _‘This must be Tristan,’_ he thought as the training came to an end and the boys shook hands. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Anakin continued on to Siri’s quarters.

 

//

 

“Anakin,” Siri greeted him with a warm smile despite her weakened state. “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

 

She pulled him into a quick hug and Anakin fought back tears as he returned her hug. He knew Siri was very ill but somehow he had still pictured her as the warm, vibrant young woman so full of life and happiness that he remembered from so many years before. The reality of her gaunt, pale frame was almost too much for him to bear.

 

“I’ve missed you, Siri,” he whispered against her ear.

 

“I missed you too,” she replied, hugging him tightly. She stood back to study him closely.

 

A tear slid down his cheek.

 

“No, no, no,” Siri scolded him softly, wiping the tear away. “There will be none of that. I’ve accepted my fate and I’m thankful for the wonderful life I’ve had.”

 

She paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t trade one single moment of it…only the timing of the end.”

 

Anakin stared down at her wearily, nodding his head and wiping away his tears.

 

“I’m so sorry, Siri,” he replied. “I wish there was something I could do for you.”

 

“There is,” she said as she took his hand, squeezing it firmly and led him to the couch across the room. “Take care of Tristan for me...and for Obi-Wan.”

 

“I will,” Anakin promised. “I only hope I can do justice to the training Obi-Wan gave me.”

 

“Oh, Tristan will keep you on your toes,” Siri laughed. ”He’s a rambunctious child and he loves to get into things.”

 

Anakin chuckled. “Sounds like you’re saddling me a child much like I was at that age.”

 

Siri shrugged. “Perhaps, but…”

 

“But what?” he questioned.

 

“He’s so much like his father…” her words trailed off.

 

“Obi-Wan would be so proud of you,” she said a moment later, running her fingers though his shoulder-length hair. “You’ve become the man he always knew you’d be.”

 

“He taught me well,” Anakin mused. “And I promise I’ll pass on everything I learned to Tristan.”

 

”I know you will,” she told him. “I trust you Anakin, just as Obi-Wan trusted you. I know you won’t let me down. I know you won’t let my son down.”

 

Anakin nodded, his emotions once again trying to get the best of him. He tramped them down as best he could before speaking again.

 

“Have you checked up on Ferus at all since you’ve been back?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

 

Siri smiled slightly. “Yes. He came to see me the third day I was here.”

 

“How is he?” Anakin wanted to know. He and the older man had been rivals as teenagers, but there had also been an underlying respect between them. He didn’t like Ferus Olin, but he respected him enough to ask about him in polite conversation with Ferus’ former master.

 

“He’s well,” she decided after a moment. “When I made my decision to leave the Jedi Order, Ferus was sort of left twisting in the wind, so to speak. He wasn’t yet ready for the Trials, but at twenty years old, he was close enough. Another master completed his training and he became a Knight about a year or so after I left.”

 

Anakin nodded. “I didn’t know any of that. Obi-Wan and I were gone so often that I barely saw Ferus.”

 

“Well, perhaps that was for the best,” she said. “I knew that my leaving would upset him, and he certainly wouldn’t have needed you making it worse with your taunts.”

 

“Taunts?” Anakin gasped. “I never taunted him.”

 

Siri laughed then, a wonderful, deep, happy laugh and it warmed Anakin’s heart.

 

“Of course you did,” she replied. “You were seventeen when I left and it was still as bad then as when the two of you were children.”

 

Anakin shook his head. He again shifted the conversation to another topic, eager to hear all about her life away from the Temple. He asked questions and she answered, followed by her questioning him. He learned much about Tristan and he told Siri all about Padme, Luke, Leia and Arik.

 

Hours passed as the two old friends chatted. They both knew that time was slowly running out and they were determined to make the best of whatever was left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 

/

 

Morning had finally come and Anakin now walked alongside Garen as they made their way to the Council Chamber where he would officially accept Tristan as his Padawan. He was amazed at the changes he was seeing as they walked; parents watching their children train, parents walking freely throughout the Temple holding their children’s hands, parents talking openly with the Jedi teaching classes. He had known of these changes of course, had even voted for them but somehow seeing them up close in person put them into a new perspective.

 

One of the first changes the Council had put to vote after he’d left for Naboo was allowing parents to be a part of their children’s training and lives at the Temple. As a result, the number of children being tested and allowed to train exploded. Being allowed to stay in their children’s lives coupled with the final destruction of the Sith and peace being restored to the galaxy, made having a child become a Jedi an appealing prospect to most people.

 

“I can’t get over all the new initiates,” Anakin marveled, shaking his head in wonderment. ”I never imagined it could be like this.”

 

“It takes a little getting used to,” Garen agreed, chuckling softly. “We’ve been overwhelmed with the number of Force-sensitive children being found across the galaxy. We’ve even begun construction on several new facilities on three separate planets to help cope with the influx of children that need to be trained.”

 

“There’s that many?” Anakin gasped.

 

“Oh yes,” Garen replied. “The new Jedi Temples will even have their quarters designed to house entire families.”

 

“It certainly looks as if we’ll need it,” Anakin smiled, swerving to avoid colliding with a rambunctious young girl being chased by several other children. “It probably doesn’t help that I’m adding three to the roster.”

 

Garen laughed. “Oh, we’ll find room for Luke and Leia and you have a couple more years before Arik will begin his formal training.”

 

Anakin nodded in agreement, his heart filled with joy at the thought of his children training in the very place he himself became a Jedi. He could see them already wandering the halls, following the winding paths through the Temple that he had, guided by the gentle hand of a loving teacher.

 

They would enjoy their time here, of that he was certain.

 

//

 

When they reached the reception area outside the Council Chamber, Anakin was not surprised to see the same young boy he’d seen sparring the day before fidgeting nervously on the couch. What surprised him even more was that he knew the boy was nervous because he could see it, not because he could sense the emotion. The child had remarkable shielding for one so young.

 

Garen walked up to the boy, smiling warmly as he gestured at Anakin. “Tristan Kenobi, I’d like you to meet Anakin Skywalker.”

 

Garen put a supportive hand on Tristan’s shoulder as the boy stood and held out his hand to greet Anakin.

 

“Hello Sir,” he greeted shyly.

 

Anakin took his hand squeezing it firmly. “Tristan, it’s nice to meet you, and you don’t have to call me Sir, or even Master Skywalker. I think Anakin will be fine for now.”

 

Tristan smiled again, a smile Anakin had seen countless times on the face of his former master; a smile he still occasionally saw in his dreams.

 

“I’ll leave you two to become better acquainted,” Garen announced. “We’ll call you when we’re ready for you.”

 

Anakin studied Tristan silently as Garen disappeared behind the Council doors. His resemblance to Obi-Wan was uncanny from his light brown hair, to his blue-gray eyes, to the way he stood, steadily meeting Anakin’s gaze, his head held high and shoulders squared, fully prepared for whatever was coming next. For a child that had never met the man who had sired him, Tristan Kenobi was a near-perfect replica of his father in both looks and mannerisms. It was a wondrous thing for Anakin to witness.

 

“Are you going to train me?” Tristan asked, breaking the silence and pulling Anakin from his thoughts.

 

“If you’d like me to,” Anakin replied, laughing as the boys’ eyes widened in surprise.

 

“You mean I get to decide?” he breathed incredulously. ”It’s my choice?”

 

“Of course,” Anakin said. “I would never force you to become my Padawan. This is a decision you have to make on your own.”

 

Tristan smiled a crooked smile.

 

“I guess you’d be okay,” he shrugged. “My mom taught me a lot already but…” tears began to fill his eyes. “She can’t anymore and she says I have to continue my training when she’s…she’s….”

 

Anakin put his arm around Tristan’s shoulders and lead him to the couch. Together they sat down, Anakin keeping his arm around the boy.

 

“Your mother is one of the best women I’ve had the pleasure to know,” Anakin began as Tristan wiped the tears from his own eyes. “She was a good friend to me when I came to the Temple and she has remained so, even after years of the two us not having any contact. I promise you that I will do my best to complete the training she began, in a fashion she and your father would be proud of.”

 

“You knew my dad?” Tristan sniffed a few moments later.

 

“Yes, I did. He was my Master,” Anakin replied somberly. “And he was the greatest man I ever knew, or ever will know.”

 

“What was he like?”

 

Anakin thought quietly for a moment, struggling to find the right words to describe the man who became his father. He knew whatever he came up with would not be adequate.

 

“He was known throughout the galaxy as The Negotiator,” he began with a wistful smile. “He was loyal, strong and dedicated to peace and democracy.”

 

He glanced at Tristan, who was listening intently. “Did your mother ever tell you how I came to the Jedi Order?”

 

Tristan shook his head slowly.

 

Anakin sat back and began his tale from his life on Tatooine to his years at the Temple. He left nothing out, from the death Qui-Gon Jinn to the painful loss of his own mother; something else he and Tristan had in common. He recalled his slaughter of the Tusken Raiders that had murdered Shmi Skywalker and the redemption from that terrible act he’d found in Padme and Obi-Wan’s love for him.

 

“Your father became my father over the years,” he explained. “I was lucky to have him. I can’t imagine what would have become of me if Obi-Wan hadn’t been in my life. I think I would have become something…truly awful if it hadn’t been for his guidance, his caring and his faith in me.”

 

“So you’re like my big brother?”

 

Anakin threw his head back and laughed. “From a certain point of view,” he mused.

 

“I wish I’d known him,” Tristan said sadly.

 

Anakin squeezed his shoulders firmly. “You’ll discover him through _me_ , I promise, and perhaps I’ll even rediscover him through _you_.”

 

Tristan smiled at him gratefully.

 

“How do you like life at the Temple so far?” Anakin then questioned.

 

Tristan shrugged. “It’s weird. I don’t know anybody but they all know me.”

 

Anakin winced, remembering his own first experiences at the Temple. Everyone knew he was _‘The Chosen One’_ and they all either stared at him, whispered behind his back or treated him as if he were some sort of strange creature. Over the years, he’d come to be friends with the majority of his fellow Jedi but the memories of his early days left him scarred. It pained him to know Tristan was experiencing a similar reaction.

 

“I don’t know how to act sometimes,” Tristan continued.

 

“Just be you,” Anakin advised. “Once everybody gets to know you, they’ll treat you the same as they treat everyone else.”

 

“I hope so,” Tristan sighed.

 

“They’re ready for you, Master Skywalker,” the teenage Padawan at the reception desk announced as the Council doors swung open.

 

Anakin nodded in her direction before looking back down at Tristan.

 

“Ready?” he asked as he stood.

 

The boy took a deep breath and stood as well. “Yes.”

 

Together, as had happened twenty years before; Kenobi and Skywalker ventured before the Jedi Council to seal their bond as Master and Padawan. This time Skywalker led, but Kenobi wasn’t far behind.

 

“Skywalker and Kenobi, together again,” the Padawan whispered to herself as the doors closed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

/

 

 

Anakin stood in the shadows of the training room watching quietly as Master Yoda tested Tristan’s levitating skills.

 

“Concentrate,” Yoda cooed softly as Tristan lifted a second bolder. It floated slowly upwards to rest on top of the other.

 

 _Impressive_ , Anakin thought; nodding in silent approval. Siri certainly had taught him well. Most ten-year olds still struggled to control one boulder and Tristan was easily handling two. The boy obviously had great power.

 

“You should be here to see this, Master,” he whispered. “You’d be so proud of your son.”

 

“Feel the Force flow through you,” Yoda continued softly.

 

Tristan’s face scrunched with strain as the rocks lifted higher. He closed his eyes in concentration, sweat forming on his forehead.

 

“Yes…good, good,” Yoda encouraged. “Use the Force; guide you it will; show you things.”

 

The rocks began to shake as Tristan struggled to maintain control. Anakin leaned forward as he felt the panic begin to build in his new Padawan. Something was wrong. Tristan’s emotions were turning very fearful.

 

Suddenly, the rocks dropped. Tristan’s eyes flew open in panic.

 

“Mom!” he cried running towards the door. Anakin stepped into the room, catching Tristan in his arms.

 

“Tristan, what’s wrong?” he asked as the boy struggled to free himself.

 

“It’s…my…mom…” he choked on the tears that were falling down his cheeks. “She’s…she…died…I was supposed to be with her…let me go!”

 

Anakin tightened his grip as Yoda hobbled over.

 

“Tristan, calm yourself! Your mother hasn’t died,” Anakin assured him. ”Your mother is alive, Tristan.”

 

“I saw it!” Tristan screamed. ”I saw her die!”

 

“We would have felt it,” Anakin replied gently. “She’s still…waiting for you.”’

 

“She…is?” Tristan gasped.

 

“Yes,” Anakin smiled warmly at the boy. “Stretch out with your feelings and you’ll feel her too.”

 

He and Yoda exchanged worried glances as Tristan closed his eyes, reaching for his mother. He sagged against Anakin in relief when he felt her presence, tired and weak, but very much alive.

 

“How come I saw her?” he asked wearily. “It seemed so real.”

 

“It is the future you see,” Yoda explained softly. ”Events yet to take place.”

 

“Oh,” Tristan breathed. “I really want to see my mom. Can the testing be over now Master?”

 

Anakin was startled when he realized Tristan addressed the question to him instead of Yoda. He was still getting used to the idea of having a padawan. He glanced down at the small Master. Yoda had an amused smile on his face and nodded his head slightly.

“Yes,” Anakin answered Tristan. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

Surprising both Anakin and Yoda, and possibly himself, Tristan tossed himself into Anakin’s arms for a hug. He held tight for a few moments before springing loose and rushing from the room.

 

“He’s having visions already,” Anakin commented. ”Obi-Wan mentioned to me once that he had them often as a child.”

 

“Hmm…strong is Tristan with the Force, like his father,” Yoda replied closing his eyes and lowering his head. “Much guidance he will need, if learn to control his visions, he is. Not easy will it be.”

 

Anakin nodded, feeling for the first time, the true burden of his new responsibility.

 

 _Is this how you felt as well, Master?_ he thought. Obi-Wan had the daunting task of training the Chosen One. Now, the Chosen One himself had the daunting task of training a young boy stronger in the Force than most.

 

/

 

Anakin held tightly to Arik’s hand as he led Padme and the children through the Temple to Siri’s quarters. She had invited the entire Skywalker family over for a simple dinner so they could get to know each other.

 

Luke and Leia listened attentively as he pointed out the various training rooms, study areas and introduced everyone to several of the Masters they passed.

 

/

 

“Anakin,” Siri smiled brightly, holding the door to her quarters open.

 

“And you must be Padme,” she greeted each of the Skywalkers warmly and introduced them to a stoic Tristan at her side as they entered.

 

Padme nodded and smiled slightly. “Yes, and these are my children, Luke, Leia and Arik.”

 

Siri looked down at the children. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

 

Taking control, as she usually did, Leia stepped forward from her brothers. She held out a tiny hand. “We’re pleased to meet you too, Master Tachi.”

 

Padme chuckled at her headstrong and outgoing daughter.

 

Anakin watched the exchange silently, struggling to keep his emotions under control. He had only been back at the Temple a few days but he could see the rapid decline in Siri’s health. Her smile no longer reached her eyes and her breathing had become shallower. His heart bled at the realization that Tristan’s vision of her dying would become a reality all too soon. He looked away guiltily when Siri caught his eye, a knowing look on her face.

 

“Tristan,” she began softly. “Why don’t you take Luke, Leia and Arik into to living room and watch a bit of the HoloNet.”

 

“Siri, are you sure you’re up to this?” Anakin asked when the children were out of earshot. “We can always…”

 

“Nonsense, I’ll be all right,” Siri replied firmly meeting his worried gaze. “For tonight anyway, and it’s important for Tristan to meet…” she trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.

 

Anakin reached out and rested a hand on her arm, lending her his support, both physically and through the Force.

 

“I’m not going to do this,” she insisted wiping the tears from her eyes. “I don’t have much time left and I want to get to know Tristan’s new family a bit.”

 

“Siri, we’re honored to have Tristan in our lives,” Padme said softly. “I wish it could be under better circumstances but I promise you, we will keep your memory and Obi-Wan’s alive for him.”

 

Anakin nodded his agreement. “He will know you, Siri, and he’ll know Obi-Wan, I’ll make sure of it. He’ll never have to wonder who his parents were or what they were like.”

 

“Thank you,” Siri replied with a grateful smile. She took a deep breath. “Now, let’s go join our children and enjoy the rest of the evening.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 

/

 

Anakin held a squirming Arik firmly in his arms as he sat among several dozen other parents in the main training hall. In a few moments, Luke and Leia would be lead into the center of the room with the other children who’d been accepted for training. They would be split into different groups within the crèche, and for the first time in their young lives, trained separately.

 

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew his children needed to be here in the Temple, trained by the very best the Jedi had to offer in order to reach the height of their abilities, but it was difficult for him let go of being in charge of their training. It felt a little like his babies were slowly slipping away from him.

 

“Daddy, I wanna pway!” Arik requested as he struggled to free himself from Anakin’s grasp.

 

“In a little bit,” Anakin whispered in his ear, ruffling his hair.

 

“Now, Daddy!” Arik demanded loudly, earning Anakin several sympathetic looks from the parents nearby.

 

“Having a little trouble?” asked an amused voice from behind.

 

Anakin turned to find Barriss Offee grinning broadly at him.

 

“Hello, Barriss,” he greeted as she sat down beside him.

 

“And who’s this little cutie?” she asked pinching Arik’s cheeks.

 

“This is my youngest son, Arik,” Anakin introduced. “Arik, can you say hello to Barriss?”

 

“Hi, Bawess,” Arik greeted shyly.

 

“Well, aren’t you just the most handsome little boy in the room,” she cooed.

 

“Yes,” Arik replied, crawling from Anakin’s lap into hers and tugging on a loose strand of her long hair.

 

“And just as modest as your daddy,” Barriss laughed hugging him to her.

 

“Hey!” Anakin protested.

 

“Where is Padme?” Barriss asked a moment later.

 

“She’s in a meeting with Chancellor Organa and Vice-Chancellor Mon Mothma to discuss her…political future,” Anakin answered as the side doors to the training room opened and the new initiates entered.

 

He watched in silent awe as the ceremony began and Luke and Leia were sorted into a crèche group. Both five-year olds, along with the many other young children were grinning from ear to ear while still others were standing stoically as they were assigned to their new crèche group.

 

“I still can’t quite get over how many new initiates there are,” Anakin whispered to Barriss.

 

She smiled, still holding Arik in her lap. “It is hard to believe. I’ve never been sure of all the changes, but it’s hard to argue them when you see this.”

 

Anakin smiled as he watched his twin children talking animatedly with the other children that were sorted into the group. They were already making the friendships that would last them their entire lifetimes. They would train with these friends, eat their meals with them, study for their classes with them, and one day, possibly, go to war with them; fight and die with them.

 

“Are you alright, Anakin?” Barriss asked as she sensed his sadness.

 

He looked over at her, at his son, and nodded. “I will be.”

 

/

 

The ceremony had barely ended when his comlink chirped.

 

“Skywalker,” he answered absently, keeping his eyes on Luke and Leia.

 

“Master!” Tristan’s voice was on the edge of hysterical.

 

“Tristan, what’s wrong?” he questioned; yet even as he asked, Anakin knew.

 

“It’s my mom,” Tristan cried. “You have to hurry!”

 

“I’m on my way,” he turned to Barriss.

 

“I’ll take care of Arik,” she said, squeezing his arm tightly.

 

“Thank you,” Anakin breathed, running from the room in full stride.

 

/

 

Padme sat across from Chancellor Organa and Vice-Chancellor Mon Mothma picking at her pika fruit.

 

“I’m glad to see you back on Coruscant, Padme,” Mon Mothma began. “You don’t know how much the Republic has missed you these last five years.”

 

“Really?” Padme asked, her eyes widening in surprise. “I was just a senator. I’m surprised anybody noticed my absence.”

 

“Don’t underestimate your contributions to this Republic, Padme,” Bail replied. “A lot of changes that have come about since Palpatine’s death are a direct result of legislation you introduced or supported.”

 

“Along with many other people,” Padme murmured shyly. ”It wasn’t just me. I was just a piece of the whole; one voice among many others.”

 

“Regardless,” Mon Mothma continued. “You made a tremendous difference while you were in office and we…” she glanced at Bail, “…are hoping you will continue to do so.”

 

“I’d like to,” Padme said softly. “I really surprised at how much I’ve missed being a part of the Senate and I hope there is a role for me somewhere.”

 

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Bail smiled at her warmly. “Mon Mothma and I have been discussing a position that has just been created. We’ve been having a difficult time selecting someone for the job, but I think you’d be perfect.”

 

Padme sat back stunned. “A new position?”

 

“As a liaison between this office and the Senators,” Bail offered.

 

Padme frowned. “Why would you need a liaison?” she wondered. “Don’t you still have meetings and debate on the Senate floor?”

 

“Yes,” Mon Mothma replied. “But we are hoping to cut down on the bureaucracy by having you meet directly with the senators before they introduce legislation on the floor. You would be in a position of authority, having the ability to negotiate with the senators on behalf of Bail and myself. If we can have an agreement on the issues worked out in advance of the senate sessions, it will limit the time we spend discussing the issues in a…committee.”

 

“I’m overwhelmed you would choose me for such a position,” Padme replied.

 

“Well, we do have an ulterior motive of sorts,” Bail said, leaning forward. “We’d like to groom you for an eventual run as Chancellor.”

 

“Me?” Padme choked. “But…I…my children…”

 

“Not right away,” Bail chuckled. “In fact, Mon Mothma is planning to run when my term is up. We’re thinking several years down the road when your children are older.”

 

Padme was speechless.

 

“It’s a lot to think about, we realize that,” Mon Mothma began. “And you don’t have to decide about running for Chancellor right now but we hope you’ll consider the liaison job. You’re an asset to this Republic, Padme and the people will be thrilled to have you back, in any capacity you choose.”

 

“I don’t know what to say,” Padme breathed. “Thank you for your confidence in me.”

 

“Padme, you’ve proven yourself to be more dedicated to peace and diplomacy than most of the senators serving today,” Bail added. “I can’t think of a more fitting candidate to groom to eventually lead the Republic.”

 

/

 

Anakin arrived at Siri’s quarters directly behind Ferus Olin, his childhood rival.

 

“Ferus,” he greeted solemnly.

 

“Anakin,” he returned, both men silently agreeing to put aside old feuds for the sake of a woman they both respected.

 

They entered her quarters together to find Garen, Yoda and Tristan at Siri’s bedside.

 

“Ah, my two favorite Jedi,” Siri gasped weakly.

 

“I came as quickly as I could, Master,” Ferus whispered taking her hand and squeezing it softly.

 

“I know,” she gasped, studying each of the sad faces around her silently before turning her gaze back to Ferus.

 

She looked into his dark eyes and reached up with great effort to finger the patch of white in his hair. She ran a finger down the long scar that ran from his left ear all the way down to his neck.

 

A thousand different memories of the time they shared together as teacher and student came to her mind then. She could so easily see the young boy he’d been in the face of the man before her. He was serious and dedicated to becoming the best Jedi he could possibly be.

 

“You’ve grown into a fine man and strong Jedi, Ferus,” she breathed. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

Ferus wasn’t one for public displays of emotion, but the pride he saw in his dying master’s eyes when she looked at him gave him occasion to cry. Tears coursed down his tanned face.

 

“I’m proud of _you_ ,” Ferus whispered through his tears. “You made me the Jedi I am today, and for that I’m grateful. You made me the _man_ I am today, and for that I’m eternally proud and thankful to have had you in my life.”

 

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her fever-warmed forehead. “Force be with you, my Master. I will miss you.”

 

With that, he stood and backed away, letting someone else taken his place next to Siri.

 

She turned to Garen as he knelt beside her. “Garen, you’ve been such a good friend to me over the years, I…” she tailed off, interrupted by a brief coughing spell.

 

“Thank you,” she finally managed softly.

 

Garen grasped her fragile hand in his and squeezed gently. “You don’t have to thank me. Being your friend has always been one of the easiest things I’ve done in my life. Apart from Obi-Wan, you were always my _best_ friend. I want you to know that I’ll always cherish the time we spent together.”

 

“As will I,” she whispered.

 

Garen brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed the center of her palm, a sign of love and respect that was tradition on his homeworld. His eyes met hers as he spoke. “Goodbye, my friend. May the Force be with you.”

 

As Garen stood, Siri’s gaze drifted to Master Yoda.

 

“Master,” she called weakly.

 

Yoda smiled up at her.

 

“There aren’t enough words for me to thank you for all you’ve done for me over the years.”

 

The old Jedi hobbled closer and rested a clawed hand on top of Siri’s. “A fine Jedi you are, youngling. Proud of you I am. Miss you, I will.”

 

A single tear slid down Siri’s cheek.

 

“Anakin,” she reached out a shaky hand.

 

Anakin stepped forward, taking her hand in his. Always a person that wore his heart on his sleeve, Anakin had tears pouring down his cheeks. His eyes were red from crying and his hands weren’t all that steady.

 

“Take…care…of Tristan,” her breathing was rapidly becoming shallower.

 

“I will,” Anakin vowed as he dropped to one knee beside her. "I swear to the Force, I will. I won’t let you down, Siri. I will watch over him as if he were my own son, I promise you.”

 

She could only manage a small nod of her head.

 

Anakin leaned close. “You have nothing to fear, my friend. Your son _will be_ taken care of. May the Force be with you.”

 

He stood then and let Tristan move closer to his mother. He rested a strong, once again steady hand on the boys’ shoulder.

 

“Mom,” Tristan called as he sat beside her, tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

“Tris, my sweet little boy,” Siri caressed his cheek with the last of her strength. “I’m so sorry to leave you…I love you,” her arm dropped to the bed.

 

“I…love…you,” she shuddered, her mouth forming into a slight smile.

 

“Obi-Wan,” she breathed, her eyes widening in recognition before closing forever…and was gone.

 

“Mom!”

 

Tristan buried his face into her neck and sobbed.

 

Yoda lowered his head.

 

“Rest well youngling,” he whispered before turning and hobbling from the room.

 

Anakin bit back his tears, determined to be strong for Tristan. The boy needed his steady calm, not his grief.

 

Garen and Ferus whispered their own goodbyes, leaving Anakin and Tristan alone.

 

Anakin sat next to Tristan, rubbing his shoulders gently.

 

“What will…happen to her…now,” Tristan gasped.

 

“The Healers will prepare her…her body to receive final respects in the Room of Remembrance,” Anakin replied softly. “It is how the Jedi Order honors the life of a Jedi who has passed into the Force.”

 

“I…don’t…want…to…say...goodbye.”

 

Anakin gathered the boy in his arms.

 

“It’s not goodbye,” he assured him gently. “You mother will always live on in your heart and the hearts of all of us lucky enough to have known her. Then one day, a long time from this moment, after you’ve lived your life you’ll pass into the Force just as she has. You’ll be old and gray by then and when you find yourself held with the arms of the Force, your mother, and your father, will be there waiting for you.”

 

“Promise?”

 

Anakin held the child tightly. “I promise.”

 

The two sat there for a long time, bonded in their grief. “Let’s go home.”

 

Tristan nodded. He bent down and kissed Siri’s cheek. “I love you, Mama. We’ll see each other again someday, I promise.”

 

Anakin smiled gently at the boy. They grasped hands and walked from the room…together.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 

/  
  
Anakin stood stoically next to Tristan as Siri’s pyre was lit. He’d been by his padawans side the last three days as the Jedi Order paid homage to Siri and was amazed at how well the boy held up. He exhibited remarkable strength for one so young. Despite his grief, Tristan was the first one to enter the Room of Remembrance in the morning and the last to leave at night, collapsing in exhaustion for a few hours of sleep before returning to his mother’s side.   
  
Just as Anakin had done six years previously with Obi-Wan, Tristan stood solemnly at the head of the table where Siri lay, listening intently as the entire Jedi Order and several of her good friends said their good-byes. One by one they filed past; some murmuring small verses while others simply bowed their heads for a moment before moving on.   
  
Anakin was by his side the entire time, silently and confidently using the Force to give Tristan the extra strength he needed. Anakin understood better than anyone did just how much Tristan needed to be with Siri during these final hours and he was determined to help the young boy fulfill his final duty to his mother.   
  
He glanced over at Padme and thanked the Force for her unwavering love and support. He would never have survived losing Obi-Wan or have the wherewithal to be strong for Tristan without her. She was his rock, through good times and bad, just as he was now Tristan’s.   
  
Tristan stared blindly into the flames as the Jedi began to leave the room, his bottom lip trembling, his blue-gray eyes awash in grief and pain. Anakin could feel his anxiety begin to rise and sent him a wave of comfort through the Force and felt him relax a bit.   
  
Padme took his large hand in hers, squeezing firmly as he watched the last of the embers die, hardly believing Siri was really gone. When she’d fled the temple so many years ago, at least they’d had the comfort of knowing she was out there, somewhere. Now, she had joined the Force, and that simply…hurt.

 

As the room emptied, Tristan’s shoulders slumped and he began to tremble. Anakin squeezed his shoulders tightly, offering silent comfort to his young student.   
  
“Tris,” he whispered softly. “It’s time to go home.”   
  
Not for the first time since he’d witnessed his mother’s death three days before, tears poured down Tristan’s cheeks as he buried his face in Anakin’s chest.   
  
“It’s…over…Mom’s…gone…” he sobbed.   
  
Padme walked over to Tristan, rubbing his back gently as Anakin spoke.   
  
“She’s not gone,” he explained gently. “She will always be with you wherever you go, in your heart and in your memories. She’ll never really leave you.”   
  
Tristan continued his sobbing as he wrapped his arms around Anakin’s waist, hugging him tightly and taking comfort in his presence.   
  
/   
  
Anakin paused over Tristan’s sleeping form to make sure he was in a deep sleep before slipping quietly from his room.   
  
“Is he finally asleep?” Padme whispered as he closed the door behind him.   
  
Nodding, Anakin turned to face her. He took in her soft features before answering.  
  
“He kept insisting he wasn’t tired even though he was about to collapse from exhaustion.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He’s as stubborn as his father. I can’t count the number of times Obi-Wan would keep going until he just dropped somewhere. He’d insist that he was fine and the next minute he was sound asleep.”   
  
Padme chuckled softly before pulling Anakin into a tight embrace. “Now you can get some rest,” she whispered against his ear.   
  
Anakin leaned against her momentarily before pulling back to gaze at her softly. “I’m not that tired,” he protested. “And you never told me how your meeting with Organa and Mon Mothma went.”   
  
“Ani,” Padme stroked his cheek tenderly. “It went fine and we can talk about it later. Right now you need to…”   
  
“Find out how the meeting went,” he interrupted, catching her hand and kissing the palm. “The kids will be back from the crèche soon and I won’t be able to rest then.”   
  
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Let’s talk about it now.”   
  
“All right,” Padme sighed leading him into the sitting room. “I’ve been offered a new position,” she began as the settled onto the sofa.   
  
Taking his hand in hers, she told him everything from the creation of the new position to being groomed for an eventual run as Chancellor.   
  
“Chancellor Skywalker,” Anakin teased, raising one brow. “I like the sound of that.”   
  
“I don’t know about that part,” she admitted shyly. “Can you really imagine me as Chancellor?”   
  
“Yes,” Anakin replied firmly. “You would be perfect for the job.”   
  
“You really think so?” Padme asked doubtfully. “It’s such an overwhelming thought.”   
  
“You could handle it,” Anakin insisted. “I’ve watched you in the Senate over the years and I know there is nothing you can’t handle. I think you could make a huge impact as Chancellor.”   
  
“Thank you Ani,” Padme breathed, tears shining in her eyes. She leaned over to kiss him deeply as the door flew open.   
  
“Mom! Dad! We’re home!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 

/  
  
Luke Skywalker sat in the Introduction to System Geography class and stifled a yawn. He hated having to sit still for studying. He’d much rather have been with Leia in Master Yoda’s levitation class. Now that would be fun.   
  
“Good morning everyone,” the instructor boomed in a powerful voice as he stepped into the room and stood before a holographic projector. “My name is Master Agen Kolar and I will be your teacher for this class.”   
  
“Good morning Master Kolar,” the students piped up in perfect unison.   
  
Luke tuned out the rest of Kolar’s speech as he studied his fellow classmates. One girl in particular caught his eye. She was sitting two seats ahead of him to his left, her long red hair strewn casually around her shoulders.   
  
She fidgeted uncomfortably, seemingly feeling his stare, before turning and catching his eye. She flashed him a quick smile, her green eyes dancing with mischief.   
  
Master Kolar’s name was projected above Luke’s head as he explained how the holo projector worked and that the students were to enter their questions and answers in the datapad in front of them.   
  
Suddenly, another hologram appeared directly next to Master Kolar’s name. It read, simply: is a poodoo head.   
  
The class burst into laughter. Master Kolar looked up, shaking his head knowingly. These weren’t the first group of Initiates that had gotten creative with the interactive datapads. They wouldn’t be the last either.  
  
“Well at least someone is paying attention to my instruction,” he commented wryly.   
  
Luke glanced over at the young girl who was grinning in triumph. _She did it,_ he thought gleefully.   
  
“Please keep in mind that I am a Jedi Master and I can sense the culprit,” Kolar pointed out with a slight smile, glancing quickly at the young redheaded girl.   
  
The hologram disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.   
  
“Thank you,” Kolar said. “Now we can continue with the class.”   
  
Luke could barely contain himself until the class was over. He had to meet this girl.   
  
“Hi, I’m Luke Skywalker,” he breathed, catching up to her after the class ended. “That was wizard!”   
  
The young girl eyed him suspiciously.

 

“What was?” she asked innocently.   
  
“Calling Master Kolar a poodoo head,” Luke laughed. “How’d you do that without him seeing?”   
  
“It was easy,” the girl shrugged. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime but I’ve got to get to Master Unduli’s class now.”   
  
“Thanks!” Luke said with a grin as she started to walk away.   
  
“Hey!” he called out after her. “What’s your name?”   
  
“Mara Jade,” she called out over her shoulder, without breaking stride.   
  
/   
  
Anakin found a downtrodden and grumpy Tristan sitting on a limestone bench next to a small pond in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, absently dropping pebbles into the water. He sighed, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts before sitting quietly next to him.   
  
“Tristan,” he greeted softly.   
  
“Master,” came the equally soft reply.   
  
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”   
  
Tristan glanced at him quickly.

 

“Didn’t Master Windu tell you?” he asked incredulously.   
  
“He told me you threw a tantrum and stomped out of his class,” Anakin replied gently.  
  
“I did not!” Tristan insisted louder than was necessary.  
  
Anakin looked at him, raising one eyebrow. “You stayed for the entire class?”   
  
“No.” Tristan’s shoulders slumped. “But I didn’t have a tantrum.”   
  
“Ah, I see,” Anakin bit his lip to keep from smiling. “Why did you stomp out of class then?”   
  
Tristan dropped a few pebbles into the pond before answering. “I don’t know, Master,” he finally sighed.   
  
“Whatever is bothering you, you can talk to me about it,” Anakin said gently. “I hope you know that. I might even understand.”   
  
“It’s such a stupid class!” Tristan suddenly flared. “Why do I have to study Galactic Political Procedures anyway? I’m not going to be a politician! I hate politics!”   
  
Anakin couldn’t completely suppress the smile that crossed his face at that statement. He easily remembered all of the times Obi-Wan had expressed the same sentiments towards politics. Perhaps there was something to the _like father, like son_ adage after all.  
  
“Because you’ll have to deal with politicians whether you want to or not,” Anakin explained after a few moments. “And you’ll need to be able to _speak their language_ , so to speak.”   
  
“I guess so,” Tristan groaned.   
  
Anakin studied him for a moment. He could feel the tension and anger just below the surface of Tristan’s emotions. Something else was bothering him; something important. Of that much, Anakin was certain.   
  
“Why did you really leave the class?” he asked softly, hoping to draw Tristan out.  
  
Tristan was silent for a few moments. Anakin could feel his turmoil as he debated whether to tell him or not.   
  
“I want to be doing something important,” he finally replied. “My mom said being a Jedi was the most important job in the galaxy and she taught me to use my talent. She said I would help a lot of people someday,” he paused as tears began to fall down his cheeks. “I don’t see how dealing with politicians can help anybody.”   
  
“Perhaps it can’t,” Anakin chuckled. “But you have to deal with them anyway. Dealing with things and doing things we don’t want to do are part of life. But even the most irritating and seemingly mundane tasks have a purpose.”  
  
Tristan sighed in frustration.   
  
“Tris,” Anakin began, hardly believing he was delivering the exact same speech Obi-Wan had given him over the years…repeatedly. “Being a Jedi is not all about adventure and excitement. There is a lot of diplomacy involved if you’re really going to help make the changes needed to make a difference in the lives of thousands of beings. I know you want to go out into the galaxy lightsaber blazing, but it just doesn’t work that way. Even when I was a young Jedi Padawan, your father and I went on many missions where neither of us even ignited out sabers. You have to understand everything else that goes into being a Jedi Knight other than combat.”   
  
“Maybe,” Tristan admitted begrudgingly. “But do you have any idea how boring Master Windu can be?”   
  
Anakin threw his head back and laughed.   
  
“As a matter of fact, I do. Come on,” he stood, bringing Tristan up with him. “Let me show you a little trick I learned on how to survive a class with Master Windu.”   
  
The two got up from the bench and headed out of the Room of a Thousand Fountains; Anakin gesturing with his hands and Tristan laughing.   
  
Neither of them saw Master Yoda watching them from across the room, a small genuine smile on his ancient face.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

/  
  
Anakin carried Arik through the Jedi Temple on his way to the Combat Training Room to meet Tristan, Luke and Leia. He watched in bittersweet amusement as Arik’s dark-haired head turned from side to side in rapid succession as he took in all the sights and sounds of the Temple, knowing he only had a short time left to spend with his youngest son before he too began his formal training. Squeezing Arik tightly to him, he vowed to enjoy the time they had left.   
  
He arrived at the training room to find various Jedi Knights milling about while several sparring exhibitions were taking place. Anakin quickly spotted Tristan and the twins standing at the back of the room studying the various plaques showcasing the winners of the Padawan and Knight lightsaber tournaments throughout the years.   
  
He approached them quietly as Luke’s head jerked up. “Look Tristan, it’s our dads!”

 

He pointed excitedly to a plaque on the center of the wall. “They won at the same time. Wizard!”   
  
Tristan starred at the plaque silently, a wistful smile on his face. He’d seen numerous holographs of his father in his short time at the Temple, but never one where he looked so happy and proud.

 

“Maybe Master Anakin and I can win in the same year,” he whispered softly.   
  
“We’ll both win,” Luke gushed. “I can already block all the other younglings in Master Fisto’s class,” he boasted, demonstrating various defensive stances.   
  
“Daddy, I gonna be a Jedi too!” Arik announced, squirming to be put down.   
  
“Yes, you will,” Anakin replied kissing the top of his head. “Someday.”

 

He set Arik down and placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Already planning your victory, Son?” he teased.   
  
“I’m gonna win just like you, Daddy,” Luke beamed up at him.   
  
“I know you will,” Anakin replied ruffling his hair.

 

His eyes met Tristan’s. “What about you Tris?”

 

”I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug of his small shoulders. “Maybe when I’m older.”

 

Anakin smiled. “Well, you’re ten years old now. That’s just old enough to begin competing in the annual lightsaber tournament. You could compete if you chose.”

 

Tristan smiled at the praise. “I guess.”

 

/  
  
Arik looked around the room, his eyes lighting up when he spotted the back of a small, green figure about his height. He rubbed his little hands together in youthful anticipation.

 

“I be a Jedi now!” he declared charging at the figure. “Eeeeeeeeeeeeyaaaaaaaa!” he screamed at the top of his lungs as his arm shot forward catching the figure just below its shoulder.   
  
Anakin whirled around in horror as Yoda turned to face his tiny attacker. Yoda looked the youngest Skywalker up and down, stuck out his tongue and made a face.

 

Tristan and Luke both broke into hysterics that nearly had them both on the floor. Tears of laughter poured down their cheeks.  
  
“Arik!” Anakin yelled at his son.  
  
The boy forgot all about his attack.

 

“You funny,” he laughed, sticking out his tongue out at Yoda as Anakin arrived, scooping him up in his arms.   
  
“Arik, this is Master Yoda,” he introduced. “Master, I…”   
  
“Master Woda,” Arik repeated, frowning in disbelief that the small green being could be the same wise Jedi that he’d heard Anakin speak of so often. “How old aw you?”   
  
“Arik!” Anakin scolded.  
  
Yoda chuckled. “Inherited your sense of adventure young Skywalker has, hmm?”   
  
“Yes, Master,” Anakin flushed in total embarrassment.  
  
“Strong Jedi he will be. More careful, I will have to be,” Yoda replied, winking at Arik as he hobbled away.   
  
/  
  
Leia watched her brother’s exchange with Master Yoda with mild amusement before turning away and wandering over to an empty corner of the room where sat quietly. She didn’t share Luke or Tristan’s love of all things combat, though she was very proud of her father’s accomplishments, as well as mildly curious about Obi-Wan Kenobi.  
  
“Hey Leia, what’s wrong?” Tristan sat down beside the five year-old who seemed much more mature than her years.  
  
“Nothing,” she shrugged, hugging her knees to her chest.   
  
Tristan studied her silently for a moment. He could feel her discontent. “You don’t like fighting much, huh?”   
  
Leia sighed, nodding her head. Her dark eyes took on sadness then that Tristan knew a child her age shouldn’t feel.

 

“I don’t wanna fight,” she admitted softly. “Mama says talking is better than fighting.”   
  
“Master Anakin says we’ll have to do a lot of talking as Jedi,” he replied patting her hand. “We just have to be prepared to fight.”   
  
“I guess,” she said glumly.   
  
“I’ll help you if you want,” he offered with a gentle smile.   
  
“Okay,” Leia agreed. “But I’m still not gonna wanna fight.”   
  
/  
  
”I don’t recall ever having felt that embarrassed in my life,” Anakin said as he took a bite of the nerf-steak Padme had prepared for dinner.

 

Padme could only laugh at the story of Arik’s adventure in the Temple. She had known from nearly the moment he was born that he was going to be the adventurer of the family. He was wild and untamed and unafraid. Arik was going to conquer the galaxy when he grew up.

 

She shifted her eyes to her oldest son. Luke was a quiet, serious child that had moments of wild, untamed exuberance like his younger brother, but the majority of the time he managed to keep it contained. Mostly, Luke was a dreamer. He spent hours upon hours on Naboo just staring up at the stars, questioning Anakin endlessly about the places he’d been and the things he’d seen with Obi-Wan. Luke wanted to travel the stars and Padme knew his inborn wanderlust would one day spirit him away from her.

 

Leia was her analytical, argumentative child. The girl questioned everything and never took no for an answer. She had not only to know how things worked, but also why. She wanted to help the people in need she saw on the HoloNet. She wanted to be a friend to children she knew had none. Padme knew in her heart that someday Leia would most likely follow her into the galactic political arena. When that time came, Padme knew her little girl would be a force to be reckoned with.

 

Finally, she shifted her gaze back to her husband. “The Jedi are going to have their hands full with these three.”

 

Anakin nodded in agreement. “I sure hope they don’t bring us to our knees.”

 

The family continued speaking softly as they finished their meal. Tristan and Luke regaled Anakin and Padme with tales of meeting new friends and discovering which classes they liked and didn’t like. Arik babbled to himself; caught up in his own little world, marching as usual, to the beat of a drum only he could hear. Leia ate quietly, speaking only when she had something important to add to the conversation.

 

Later, after the evening meal had been cleaned up, Anakin gathered everyone on one of the plush sofas in the sitting room.   
  
“Story time,” he announced as Leia curled up on one side of him and Luke on the other.   
  
“Master, I’m too old for stories,” Tristan protested even as he took his seat.  
  
“You’ll like this one,” Anakin replied, smiling when Arik crawled from Padme’s lap into Tristan’s.   
  
“Daddy tells good stowies,” he announced before sticking his thumb in his mouth and laying his head on Tristan’s chest.   
  
“You won’t be bored,” Padme whispered patting Tristan’s shoulders. ”I promise.”  
   
Anakin gazed at her gratefully before launching into his tale of a slave boy on Tatooine and the two heroic Jedi who saved him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

/

 

**Coruscant**

**The Jedi Temple**

**Three Years Later**

/

 

 

In the three years that Tristan Kenobi had spent at the Jedi Temple, he’d grown considerably. All of the physical training had given the young teen the beginnings of a muscular build. He’d grown taller as well, standing at 1.52 meters.

 

When Anakin reached the room where Tristan was practicing, he stood a few feet away from the sparring mat, a small smile of pride lighting his face as he watched thirteen year-old Tristan practice for the annual lightsaber tournament to be held in a few days’ time.

 

He sent a gentle push through the Force to alert Tristan was there, but not enough to startle the boy.  
  
“Good, you’re improving,” he complimented moments later as Tristan blocked a series of slashing attacks. “Keep your guard up.”   
  
Tristan gave a slight nod of his sandy brown head, ignoring the sweat pouring down his face as he continued parrying his opponent’s attacks. Back and forth the two boys went, their green sabers slashing and striking. Then suddenly, the scene before Tristan changed.

 

/

 

_The room was dark. The only light came from the furious clash of lightsabers clashing together in rapid succession._

_Tristan pushed his opponent further and further backwards until he was pressed against the wall. His opponent was defenseless. His saber had been knocked away._

_Tristan grinned in triumph as he swung his lightsaber, instantly decapitating his foe._

 

/  
  
With a gasp of horror, the teen dropped to his knees as the vision ended, his lightsaber clanging to the floor beside him, deactivating on impact. He dropped his head into his hands; tears cascading down his cheeks.

 

Anakin sprang into action. He took several quick strides towards Tristan and lowered himself beside his shaking Padawan.   
  
“Tristan?” his opponent called after having switched off his own lightsaber. ”Are you okay?”  
  
“I’ll take care of him,” Anakin replied for his apprentice. “Thank you, Liam.”   
  
Liam nodded, clipped his lightsaber to his belt and turned to leave.   
  
Anakin rubbed Tristan’s back gently. “Tris?”   
  
Tristan squeezed his eyes tightly shut, shaking his head from side to side.   
  
“Tris, what happened?” Anakin asked gently. ”What did you see, Padawan?”

 

Anakin had spent the last three years dealing with Tristan’s visions. With training, Tristan had learned to control them, but every so often one would hit him unexpectedly and the young man would freeze.

  
Tristan remained silent, tears continuing to stream down his face.   
  
“It’s okay,” Anakin soothed. “You can tell me.”

 

He paused, sensing the boy’s terror and sending a wave of comfort through their bond.   
  
“I…I…saw…I…killed someone,” Tristan gasped.   
  
“You…what?” Anakin questioned, thinking he had heard the boy wrong.  
  
“I saw it!” Tristan cried; his terror filled eyes meeting Anakin’s. “I...was fighting…and I killed someone…and I…I… _liked it_. It was on purpose, Master.”

 

He buried his face in his hands, sobbing harder.   
  
Anakin sat back in shock, his mind reeling. _Please don’t let this one come true_ , he thought, hugging Tristan to him tightly until his sobs subsided.   
  
“Were you in a battle?” he probed softly.   
  
“I…don’t know,” Tristan replied, using the sleeve of his tunic to wipe his tears. “We were just fighting. I don’t want to kill anyone, Master!”   
  
Anakin sighed heavily. The time had come to impart the same words to Tristan that Obi-Wan had spoken to him twenty years earlier.

 

“It may be necessary someday Tristan, to save your own life or someone else’s,” he admitted sadly. “Taking a life is never easy.”  
  
“But I liked it!” the boy insisted loudly.  
  
Anakin frowned. “Are you certain?”   
  
Tristan shrugged his shoulders, uncertain of everything but his own name and Anakin’s strong arms around him. 

 

Anakin thought silently for a few minutes, wishing he had Yoda’s wisdom when it came to visions.

 

“Not every vision you have will come to fruition, Tris,” he said reassuringly.   
  
“Really?” Tristan looked at him hopefully.   
  
“Really,” Anakin ensured.  “I’m not going to pretend to know everything about visions, but I do know the Force can use them to teach us about our weaknesses and fears. We can use our visions to learn where we need to improve the most.”   


“Does my vision mean I would enjoy killing?” Tristan asked wistfully.   
  
“No,” Anakin replied adamantly. “I can’t give you a definite meaning to your vision, Tristan, but I can tell you the future is not set in stone. Every day you will make decisions and choices that will lead you in different directions. No matter what kind of vision or dream you have, you are in control of your destiny.”

 

”Always in motion is the future,” Tristan whispered.

 

“Exactly,” Anakin agreed with a smile. “Life is a very fluid situation, Padawan. Things move, change and change again and again. Worrying about the future serves no useful purpose.”

 

Tristan nodded. The last of his tears were dry and he felt a bit better.  
  
Anakin stood, pulling Tristan up with him. “Let’s go home for now. You’ve practiced enough for one day.”   
  
/   
  
Standing in the middle of the quarters he and Tristan shared within the Temple, Anakin held Obi-Wan’s lightsaber in his hands, the same saber he’d carried since Obi-Wan’s death years earlier. Turning it over in his hands, a flood of precious memories flashed before his eyes as his fingers crossed each ridge.

 

He smiled sadly as he recalled the many times he and his former master practiced their techniques against each other, often times ending the practice out of exhaustion, with no clear cut winner. He remembered every time Obi-Wan said the words _this weapon is your life_. He recalled every time Obi-Wan used the weapon in his hands to defend his padawan. He remembered the scene in an old, dusty mechanics shop on a distant planet where…  
  
He winced, pushing away the images of the last time Obi-Wan used his lightsaber, remembering instead the euphoric feelings they’d both had when they’d each won their bracket in the lightsaber tournament.   
  
“Master,” Tristan stuck his head in the room, Luke standing at his side. “We’re ready to go to the tournament.”   
  
“Come here for a minute, Tris,” Anakin replied, his voice cracking just a bit.   
“I have something for you. Luke, can you go out to the front room for me for a few minutes?”

 

”The tournament starts in ten minutes, Dad,” the eight-year old boy reminded his father.

 

Anakin smiled. “I know it does. Just give us a few minutes and we’ll be right there.”

 

Luke nodded his tousled blonde head as he turned to walk back down the hallway.  
  
Tristan eyed Anakin curiously as he entered the room.   
  
Anakin smiled down at him as he handed him the lightsaber. “This was your father’s. I think he’d want you to have it.”   
  
Tristan’s eyes were lit in wonderment as he ran his fingers along the edges of the lightsaber. For three years he’d seen Anakin wield the weapon with expert accuracy on the missions they’d undertaken together. He knew that Anakin cherished the saber as one of his only remaining connections to Obi-Wan and he was stunned that his master would choose to give the weapon away.  
  
“In fact,” Anakin continued, clearing his throat. “This lightsaber is the very same one he used to win the Master’s bracket of the tournament.”  
  
“Thank you, Master!” Tristan exclaimed as he threw his arms around Anakin, hugging him tightly.

 

”You’re quite welcome,” Anakin answered as he hugged the teenager. “It…I’ve carried it with me to remember him. But…”

 

Tristan pulled away and looked up at Anakin. “But?”

 

Anakin smiled and rested his hands on Tristan's shoulders. “But now I have a much better reminder of him than his lightsaber. Besides, I want you to have it too.”

 

They shared a quick smile before exiting the room and leaving with Luke in tow, headed for the annual saber tournament.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

/

 

 

Anakin was beaming proudly as he clamped his arm around Tristan’s shoulders as the boy was presented with his second place plaque in the lightsaber tournament.   
  
“You did very well, Tristan,” Anakin said smiling broadly. “I’m so proud of you.”   
  
“Thank you, Master,” Tristan said, returning Anakin’s smile as the spectators began to flood the training area, congratulating all the participants. Tristan’s eyes swept the room, a feeling of sadness beginning to well up inside him as he watched parents hug and kiss their children, some with tears of pride in their eyes.   
  
_Mom, I wish you and Dad could be here,_ he thought wistfully, as Padme and the rest of the Skywalker’s reached their side.   
  
“Tristan, that was so great!” eight year-old Luke exclaimed, his blue eyes wide with excitement. “Can I see your plaque?”   
  
Tristan happily handed over the plaque while accepting accolades from Padme, Leia and Arik.   
  
“Good match, Tristan,” came a voice from behind.

 

Tristan whirled around to see his triumphant opponent, Liam, extending his hand.

 

“You almost had me a couple times,” Liam continued as Tristan shook his hand. “I bet you’ll beat me next time.”   
  
“Thanks,” Tristan replied softly. “You’re really good. I’ll have to practice more.”

 

 The two talked quietly for a few moments until Master Xan called for silence, announcing a special celebration treat to be served in the Jedi Rectory.   
  
“See you there!” Liam said heading towards the door.   
  
Tristan chuckled. Like most of the boys their age, Liam took advantage of every opportunity given him to eat.   
  
“Master…” Tristan turned and froze before taking another step.  
  
Anakin was holding a squirming Arik, despite the boy’s protest that he was too old to be held, in one arm while the other was draped around Luke’s shoulders. A sudden surge of anger overwhelmed him at the sight. His jaw locked and his fists clenched at his sides.  
  
_Why does everybody else get to be with their dads while I never knew mine?_ Tristan wondered furiously, wincing at the same time.

 

He’d been with the Skywalker’s for three years now and knew Anakin and Padme loved him. They never treated him differently from Luke or Arik and they were never slow with praise and guidance. Yet on occasion a piercing anger would overcome him when he saw Anakin bestowing affection on Luke and Arik; an anger he didn’t want, but felt powerless to control.   
  
_It’s not fair!_ he thought bitterly. _If that stupid code had never existed, I’d have grown up here, with both of my parents. Mom wouldn’t have gotten sick, my father would still be alive and…_

 

He looked away quickly blinking back the tears as he struggled to push his thoughts and feelings away. He knew he was lucky; lucky to have the Jedi and the Skywalker’s. They were his family; his parents and siblings, even if not by blood, and he loved them.  
  
“Tris?” Anakin asked as he walked towards him, a look of concern on his face. “Are you all right?”   
  
Tristan nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes, Master, let’s go to the rectory. I’m starving.”   
  
“Me too!” Luke exclaimed. “Wanna race?”

 

The boys took off, Tristan barely ahead of Luke.   
  
“Dad, I wanna race too!” Arik cried.   
  
Anakin set him down, barely noticing as he took off after Luke and Tristan.   
  
“Anakin?” Padme squeezed his arm. “Is something wrong?”   
  
“Something’s bothering Tristan,” he replied, frowning. “A minute ago, he was…filled with a lot of anger. Anger like I’ve never felt from him before.”   
  
“Over losing the match?” Padme wondered out loud.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Anakin shrugged. “Whatever caused it, it didn’t last very long. Or perhaps Tristan is getting too good at shielding his feelings.”

  
“Anger…” Padme closed her eyes, shuddering.

 

The memories of Anakin’s struggle with his anger were still fresh in her mind.   
  
“Hey, don’t worry,” Anakin assured her with a gentle smile. “I’ll talk to him about it. I’m sure whatever it is, we can deal with it. He’s a good kid.”

 

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her quickly. “We’d better head over to the rectory before the boys eat all of whatever the special treat is.”

 

Padme wrapped her arm around his waist as the two of them headed out of the training room.

 

/

 

”Enjoying your treat, are you?” Master Yoda asked eight year-old Luke.

 

The boy turned and bowed respectfully to the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. “Yes Master.”

 

The ancient Jedi looked the eldest Skywalker child up and down. Luke was a caring, thoughtful boy with only a mild streak of wildness in him, as opposed to his father and younger brother.

 

“Care to learn more about the Jedi of old, would you?” Yoda then asked.

 

Luke’s eyes brightened. “Of course, Master.”

 

Yoda gave a nod of his head. “Meet me after my class, you will.”

 

Luke bowed again as Yoda limped away.

 

“Propositioning Yoda for another story?” Padme asked from behind her son.

 

Luke shook his head. “No, Mama. He offered. Master Yoda likes me.”

 

Padme bent down and kissed Luke’s head. “I know. Everyone likes you.”

 

Luke blushed before running off again to join his agemates.

 

“Master Yoda has taken quite an interest in him,” Anakin said as he moved next to his wife. “I think it’s good for him.”

 

Padme agreed with a nod of her head.

 

“I’m going to join Tris and see if I can get him to talk to me about what’s bothering him,” he told her before kissing her gently and walking away.

 

Padme smiled as she herself went to join her daughter and a few of Leia’s friends. Her family was together and she was happy. Luke was finding his place within the Jedi Order, Arik was growing up healthy and happy, Leia was just beginning to discover her own likes and dislikes, and Tristan was settling in with their family.

 

All was well.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**  
  
/

  
Luke rushed through the Jedi Temple on his way to Master Yoda’s classroom as fast as he could without being reprimanded by the Masters for running. Even the youngest of initiates were expected to conduct themselves properly at all times, no matter the situation. Running in the Temple was expressly frowned upon, if not completely forbidden.  
  
It wasn’t as if there was any reason to hurry. Yoda taught the youngest of the Initiates and there was never a set time for his classes to end since the diminutive Master would always spend additional time with the younglings teaching, telling stories or supervising. He’d even been known to play with them once in awhile.   
  
Luke enjoyed spending as much of his free time as he could with Yoda. He was fascinated with the tales of the ancient Jedi and how their rules and traditions came about, although his absolute favorite stories were about the long ago Sith Wars. Luke loved any kind of battle story even when Yoda took the most exciting of battles and turned them into a stern lesson, all the while reminding the young man that Jedi didn’t crave excitement and adventure.  
  
“Hey Luke, wait up!”   
  
Luke turned to see his friend Mara Jade rushing towards him, her flowing red hair flying out behind her.  
  
“Hi Mara,” he breathed, hoping whatever she wanted wouldn’t take too long.   
  
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” she asked suspiciously.  
  
“Master Yoda’s,” Luke replied uncomfortably, his blue eyes downcast.   
  
Mara did not share his love of Yoda’s stories. In fact, she thought them boring and out of date and didn’t hesitate to tell him so. At ten years of age, Mara had definite opinions about everything and wasn’t shy about sharing them.   
  
“Do you have to?” she whined. “I was hoping you could help me find ten interesting facts about Rakrir. I have to present them in Master Secura’s class tomorrow.”   
  
“Rakrir?” Luke repeated, frowning. “Well, the Rakririans are from there, that’s one.”   
  
Mara glared at him.   
  
“I know that,” she replied icily.   
  
“Oh...well, Mara I wish I could help but I promised Master Yoda I’d stop by and…”   
  
“Go ahead,” she interrupted sharply. “I’ll find somebody else to help me.”  
  
She stomped off before Luke could reply.   
  
Luke sighed. As much as he liked Mara and wanted to help her out, he hated researching more than sitting still. _She’ll figure it out,_ he thought, continuing on his way to Yoda’s. _She always does._   
  
He grinned excitedly as he entered the near empty classroom. Only a couple Initiates remained and they were playing quietly in the center of the room.   
  
“Hi Master Yoda,” he greeted.   
  
Yoda turned to face Luke, a warm smile on his face. “Good afternoon, youngling. Ready for another story are you?”   
  
Luke nodded happily, settling into a comfortable spot on the floor. “Are you going to tell me about another battle with the Sith?”   
  
“See soon, you will,” Yoda replied. “Make sure the younglings are busy first I must, then tell you a story I will.”   
  
He chuckled softly to himself as he checked on the younglings playing.   
  
Yoda was happy to have such an attentive audience in young Luke Skywalker. Over the last few years, many changes had come to the Jedi Order and he was beginning to notice an alarming lack of interest in the rules and traditions amongst the new Initiates. They were more interested in what changes lay ahead rather than learning about the existing traditions, why they were used and keeping them alive.   
  
Yoda could only hope Luke’s enthusiasm would rub off on the other Initiates as time went by. Change was a good thing, in moderation and when necessary but he would not be around forever to keep things in check. Luke would be a powerful Jedi someday; perhaps he would be the one to take over keeping the traditions alive.   
  
/  
  
Leia happily studied the console in front of her as she sat quietly in the Archives, eager to learn all she could about Alderaan and its people. She had already compiled her list of the ten most interesting facts and now she was eagerly reading everything else she could. She loved learning about new cultures and customs. She somehow knew understanding how things were done and why would help her in her duties as a Jedi more than learning the combat techniques she was required to learn.   
  
A deep sigh of frustration interrupted her concentration and she glanced up in time to see Mara Jade slam her hand down on the table.   
  
“Mara, what’s wrong?” Leia whispered, glanced around, hoping Master Nu was nowhere in sight. The woman had no tolerance for any kind of noise in her Archives.   
  
“This is boring,” Mara snapped. “Who cares about what’s happening on Rakrir or anywhere else?”   
  
“I do,” Leia replied, a little louder than necessary. “And you should too. Learning about different planets and species will only help us as Jedi to help others.”   
  
“Sure,” Mara snorted. “When we’re Jedi we’ll just tell people what to do and how to do it. We don’t need to learn about their rules.”   
  
Leia winced at the condescending tone in Mara’s voice. She knew the girl didn’t mean to sound that way, but Mara was known for being quite outspoken and opinionated. She always said what she thought.  
  
“We can’t just order people around,” Leia replied. “When we’re Jedi, we’re supposed to be…”   
  
“Girls!” Master Nu’s sharp reprimand caused Leia to nearly jump out of her skin.   
  
“Sorry,” they whispered in unison.   
  
“I’ll never get this done! I hate research!” Mara sat back in her seat, sulking. ”It’s so…boring.”  
  
“I’ve already got my facts done,” Leia said as softly as she could while scooting closer to Mara. “I can help you with yours.”   
  
Mara glanced at her suspiciously. ”Why would you help me?”  
  
“I can learn about another planet and you can get your work done,” Leia said, smiling. “Deal?”  
  
Mara nodded. “Deal.”  
  
/

  
  
“Master,” Tristan began as they walked through the Temple on their way to pick up the twins and Arik. “Did my father know his family?”   
  
Anakin glanced at him in surprise.   
  
_Where did that come from?_ he wondered. “Why?”   
  
Tristan shrugged. “My mom told me that she researched her family after she left the Jedi and discovered that her parents died when she was young and she didn’t have any brothers or sisters and…I was just wondering if my father did.”   
  
He looked at Anakin hopefully. “Do you know?”   
  
Anakin sighed. The older he got, the more Tristan seemed to crave a connection to Obi-Wan, which Anakin could certainly understand but he had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to explain about Benjamen Kenobi’s lack of interest and down right disdain of Obi-Wan and the Jedi. He supposed that the best way was to simply say it.  
  
“Master?” Tristan asked after a few minutes of silence.   
  
“He had a brother,” Anakin finally replied.   
  
“Had?” Tristan whispered, shoulders slumped.   
  
“Your father’s brother didn’t exactly approve of the Jedi,” Anakin explained. “He thought Obi-Wan should have returned to Wukkar when the war broke out and not gotten involved.”   
  
“What happened to him?” Tristan asked. “My uncle?”  
  
“I suppose he’s still there,” Anakin replied honestly. “I went to him after Obi-Wan died to explain…but he didn’t care.”   
  
Tristan’s eyes widened in horror. “What?”   
  
“He didn’t know him, Tris,” Anakin continued, hating that he was defending a man that he absolutely loathed. “They had been separated before they ever had a chance to know one another. I’m sure he would have loved Obi-Wan had he been gifted the time to get to know him.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
Tristan was silent as they stopped outside Master Yoda’s classroom. Before entering, Anakin turned to face his apprentice.  
  
“You know, Luke was your father’s birth name,” he said.   
  
“Luke?” Tristan’s head snapped up in surprise.   
  
“Yes,” Anakin nodded. “Your father was born Luke Kenobi. When the twins were born, Padme named Leia and I suggested that we name our son Luke after your father, to honor him.”  
  
“Dad!”   
  
A flash of anger swept over Tristan as Luke came rushing out of the classroom and into Anakin’s waiting arms. The boy laughed as Anakin ruffled his blonde hair. He smiled when Anakin asked how he enjoyed his time with Master Yoda.  
  
_Why him_ came the bitter thought as white hot rage continued to build in Tristan’s stomach. _I’m the oldest, I should have my father’s name, not him!_  
  
“Hi Tristan! Wait until you hear what Yoda taught me today.”   
  
Tristan, having drawn his shields tight around his thoughts, pushed the feeling of resentment away as Luke excitedly told him about his time with Yoda.   
  
He liked Luke; loved him as a brother. It certainly wasn’t his fault he got Obi-Wan’s name.   
  
”Come along boys,” Anakin called as they headed back the way they’d come.  
  
Tristan listened as best he could, but he was distracted as he noticed, for the first time that his anger, his resentment, his jealousy hadn’t completely faded away. The rage that had sprung up momentarily hadn’t gone away, it had merely settled in his belly, festering.   
  
Fear settled over Tristan then. His eyes dropped to the boy walking beside him. Luke was still happily jabbering away. Luke was carefree, he was joyful.  
  
All was well.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**  


/  
  
**Three Years Later**   


/

  
“Master, I’ve finished studying the data we have on Ansion.”   
  
Anakin slowly opened his eyes at the sound of his sixteen-year old Padawan’s voice. He’d been meditating quietly while his apprentice studied the species, culture and customs of the planet they were currently en route to.   
  
“Good,” he replied. “Are you feeling more comfortable about the mission?”   
  
Despite Tristan’s strongest attempts to hide it, he’d been unusually anxious about this particular mission. Their past missions had always been to planets where the people were friendly to the Jedi but this one was sending them to deal directly with a people that didn’t like the city dwellers on their own planet, let alone outsiders from another.   
  
Tristan shrugged as he stood. “I’m trying to, but I sense something…elusive. It’s making me nervous”  
  
Anakin smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Tris. I’ve dealt with the Alwari nomads before and they’re not as bad as some of the reports make it seem.”   
  
“Really?” Tristan’s eyes lit up. “They trust you?”   
  
“I wouldn’t say trust,” Anakin replied with a short laugh. “But after my last mission there with Obi-Wan, I’m looked upon as…” he paused, searching for the right word.   
  
The truth was Obi-Wan and Master Luminara Unduli were the ones who earned the reluctant trust of the most prominent of the Alwari overclans, thus ensuring a successful mission. He and his fellow Padawan, Barriss Offee, had little to do with the actual negotiations.   
  
“…honest for an outsider,” he finished.   
  
“You mean they still don’t like outsiders?” Tristan gasped. “I thought they accepted the assistance of the city dwellers and Republic in the treaty they signed?”   
  
“They did,” Anakin nodded. “But they still prefer to keep to themselves on their ancestral lands. They have their own way of doing things and they don’t want to become corrupted by the outside world, even though they are willing to accept necessities when it’s unavoidable. They like keeping to themselves. It is simply part of who they are.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
Tristan thought silently for awhile. It seemed strange to him that the nomads would be so distrusting of outsiders after all the time that had passed since Anakin and his father’s mission to Ansion. To not accept medical supplies during an outbreak of a potentially fatal illness unless delivered by Anakin himself was most confusing of all. How could anyone let their people suffer for an extended period of time?   
  
“Master, do you think there will be any trouble?”   
  
Anakin had told him of the thwarted kidnapping by the Qulun clan and while he was confident he could handle any attack that came his way, he wasn’t eager for one. It had taken many years, lots of experience and the birth of his own children, but Anakin had tired of battle. He much preferred the simple negotiations Obi-Wan had so favored during their partnership.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Anakin replied softly. “After the treaty was signed and the war ended, relations among the nomads and city dwellers have been peaceful. Everyone other than the nomads have already received medical treatment from the Republic officials so there’s no need for worry.”   
  
”I sense a but in there,” Tristan sighed.  
  
“But we’ll be on guard for whatever comes our way.”   
  
He smiled reassuringly as the alarm signaling they were coming out of hyperspace sounded.   
  
/  
  
“You okay, Tris?” Anakin called as he watched the young man struggle to keep from falling off the Suubatar.   
  
“Oh, just fine, Master,” he quipped sarcastically.  
  
Tristan gritted his teeth, praying to the gods he wouldn’t fall off this strange creature they were forced to ride.   
  
“Why do the nomads have to live in the middle of nowhere anyway,” he grunted as he nearly slid off the saddle.   
  
“Lean back, it’ll be easier,” Anakin laughed, remembering his own near fall and Obi-Wan’s amusement.   
  
Tristan shot him a look of disbelief. Perhaps Anakin’s old age was finally getting to him.   
  
“How’s that going to help?” he whined. “It’ll just make me fall quicker.”   
  
“Trust me.”   
  
Tristan leaned back into the viann, sighing with annoyance. The change was immediate. Anakin was right – it was easier. He couldn’t see the terrain very well, but he no longer had to hold on to the reins for dear life.   
  
_I’ll probably never live this down,_ he groaned inwardly as he settled back and began to enjoy the ride.   
  
/  
  
They arrived at the Borokii encampment late in the afternoon and waited at a respectful distance while three Borokii clansmen rode out to greet them. Tristan gaped in wonderment at the size of the portable buildings, housing everything from residences to commercial enterprises to industrial.   
  
“Welcome, Master Anakin,” the largest of the clansmen greeted.   
  
“Bayaar,” Anakin bowed respectfully.   
  
“You remember?” Bayaar grinned broadly. “I am honored. I see you have brought a guest?”   
  
He eyed Tristan suspiciously.   
  
“This is my Padawan Learner, Tristan,” Anakin introduced, deciding quickly that he would not reveal Tristan’s surname. “He is here to help administer the medicine. We can get it done faster with the two…”   
  
“No,” Bayaar interrupted harshly. “The Council of Elders has decided we will administer the medicine ourselves. You will hand over the medicine and leave.”   
  
Tristan blinked at him in surprise. “But you don’t know…”   
  
Anakin placed a warning hand on Tristan’s shoulder.   
  
“I don’t believe that is wise,” Anakin replied gently. “The medicine must be administered very carefully to avoid an overdose and other adverse effects. May I address the Council to present my concerns?”   
  
Bayaar shook his head. “They’re decision is final. I am sorry Master Anakin. You have earned mine and my people’s trust but the Council demands tradition above all else and it is not our tradition to allow off-worlders to treat our illnesses.”   
  
Anakin nodded. “If you wish. We will unload the supplies and…”   
  
“Master!” Tristan flared, his blue-gray eyes blazing. “They’ll…”  
  
“Tristan,” Anakin said a tad bit harshly, giving him a stern look. “Help me unload the medicine from the Suubatars.”   
  
Tristan obeyed silently, fuming inside. They quickly and easily unloaded the medicine and placed it on the ground in front of Bayaar.  
  
_Why didn’t Anakin insist on administering the medicine,_ Tristan wondered to himself. Without their help, the Borokii were very likely to injure or kill their own people.   
  
“Thank you, Master Anakin, for respecting our wishes.”   
  
Bayaar bowed as Anakin and Tristan mounted the Suubatars and prepared to leave.   
  
“You are most welcome,” Anakin replied sadly.   
  
“If you need any help…,” his words trailed off. He knew full well the Council would not be requesting any further help. Bayaar nodded as they turned to leave.   
  
“Why didn’t you force the Borokii to let us help them, Master?” Tristan asked when they were safely out of earshot. “They don’t know what they’re doing and they’re going to do more harm than good. Many of them are now going to die. If they had let us help, those same people would live.”   
  
“I know,” Anakin sighed deeply. “Sometimes things happen that we just can’t control, Tris. We’re here to help but we can only help those that want our assistance and Bayaar was quite clear the Council of elders didn’t want anymore of our help.”   
  
Anakin studied the sad expression on Tristan’s face. “With the medicine we brought, they’ll save some.”   
  
“I suppose. I still feel like we should have done more,” Tristan said softly. “So many of them will die for no good reason.”  
  
“The Force is a formidable ally in any situation,” Anakin replied. “But so is the heart and in my heart and yours, if you examine it closely, you know it would have done more harm than good to force our way into the encampment. Always let your heart guide you and you won’t step wrong.”  
  
Tristan smiled. Trusting his heart wasn’t as easy at sixteen as it had been at ten. Life and growing up had jaded Tristan’s perceptions just enough that he had learned that decisions needed to be based on fact and not on emotion. Most of the time, he even managed to do it that way. Most of the time.  
  
“I’ll try.”  
  
Anakin patted his back. “Do or…”  
  
Tristan’s laugh was infectious. “…do not, yeah, I know. I can’t promise anything Master, but…”  
  
“I know you’ll do you best.”   
  
The two shared a smile and continued their journey.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 

/  
  
  
Arik Skywalker, now a spirited and mischievous eight year-old boy, fidgeted anxiously in his seat as Master Plo Koon brought the class to a close.   
  
_Can’t he do anything quickly,_ he thought with a sigh.  
  
It was exceedingly rare for any class to end on time let alone early and now due to an unexpected emergency of some sort, Master Koon was ending his class an hour early.   
  
_That gives me plenty of time to run my errand and get back to the Temple in time to surprise Dad and Luke,_ Arik thought gleefully.   
  
“I’m sure you will all find _suitable_ ways to spend your free time,” Koon added sternly as he dismissed the class. Few students noticed that his eyes had remained focused on young Arik Skywalker as he’d said the words.  
  
“Yes, Master Koon,” the initiates replied in perfect unison as they headed for the door.   
  
Arik shot out of his seat and was the first one out the door before he realized he needed to be less conspicuous if he were to sneak out of the Temple without anyone noticing. He slowed down his exit, trailing after a group of young boys on their way to the dining hall for a quick snack.   
  
As the other boys rounded the corner, Arik halted. He looked back and forth several times, his blue eyes taking in the sight of some Jedi knights milling about the area. He concluded quickly that none of them were paying attention to him, so he took a deep breath and drew his shields up as tightly as he could, hoping to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Then he made his escape, right through the front entrance of the Temple.  
  
/  
  
Tristan was walking quietly through the near empty corridors on his way to Master Windu’s Advanced Jedi History class, in no particular hurry to get there. He enjoyed history well enough but Mace Windu had a way of making the most fascinating subject unbelievably boring. Master Anakin’s tips from six years ago helped tremendously but Tristan still struggled.   
  
He sighed as he rounded the corner, just in time to watch Arik bolt out of the Temple.  
  
_What’s he doing now?_ Tristan thought, frozen in shock.   
  
Arik was supposed to be in class, not exploring Coruscant. He had always known that Arik was an adventurous boy, but seeing him fleeing the Temple on his own was the first sign that Arik Skywalker was fearless and lacked common sense.   
  
”Better watch after him so he doesn’t get hurt,” Tristan whispered to himself, hurrying after Arik and pushing aside all thoughts of the trouble he was going to be in for skipping another one of Master Windu’s classes.   
  
Tristan followed Arik for hundreds of meters as he traveled further and further down the ramps to the lowest levels of Coruscant.   
  
“How uncivilized,” Tristan muttered, frowning in distaste at the increasingly dilapidated surroundings. Even though he was only sixteen, Tristan had developed a strong dislike for anything that wasn’t clean and orderly, even people.  
  
As he walked, he caught sight of buildings that seemed near collapse and the people that found shelter beneath their shadows because they had no place to live. He struggled mightily to keep the glare of disapproval off of his face as he meandered past some of those people while still following Arik.  
  
“Master Anakin is not going to like this,” he sighed as he followed Arik into a junkyard.   
  
/  
  
_Finally!_ Arik thought gleefully as he raced into the Sudime Junkyard his father had been bragging about for years. There were various junkyards located throughout Coruscant, but the Sudime Junkyard on the lowest level was the best. Anakin had told tale after tale of the treasures he’d managed to find buried in the most unlikely places and now Arik was finally going to get the opportunity to dig for his own special treasure.   
  
But it wasn’t just any treasure Arik was after. He wanted to find a circuit board for a speeder he was helping Luke and Anakin rebuild. They would soon be to the point where the circuit board would be needed to proceed with the rebuild.  
  
Arik and Luke had both inherited Anakin’s aptitude and love for everything mechanical but while Luke could tinker on anything for hours, while Arik craved variety and became and frustrated if he couldn’t get the job done quickly. In that respect, he lacked the patience and persistence of his elder brother.  
  
Anakin had been promising Arik he’d bring him down to the junkyard for weeks to look for the circuit board, but an opportunity never seemed to present itself. So while sitting in class, the idea to travel to the junkyard alone had struck him. Now, he was there and he was certain that he would be able to surprise his father and brother.  
  
He paused for a moment, his eyes widening with excitement at the stacks upon stacks of junk. It was a scavengers paradise, and at that moment, Arik Skywalker wasn’t a Jedi-in-training, he was a scavenger.  
  
_This is where the fun begins,_ he grinned inwardly, heading towards the nearest pile and beginning his search.   
  
/  
  
Tristan stepped inside the junkyard being careful to stay in the shadows, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the smells assaulting him.   
  
_What a lovely smell you’ve discovered, Arik,_ he thought, flicking a speck of dirt off his tunic.   
  
He looked around at the enormous piles of trash and shook his head. _What could he possibly be looking for here?_   
  
Tristan hurriedly ducked behind a pile of metal as a frustrated and disheveled Arik stood, hands on his hips, scanning the various other scrap piles. He watched, perplexed, as Arik shifted from one foot to another for several long moments, his eyes simply peering into the massive piles of scrap.  
  
“Yes!” Arik cried in excitement running to a pile in the center of the junkyard.   
  
”What the…” Tristan gasped, frozen and watching in horror as the eight year-old attempted to leap onto a small ledge about four and a half meters from the ground.   
  
Arik leapt, landing precariously in the ledge and tottering dangerously as he struggled to maintain his balance.   
  
Tristan had felt the boy pull the Force to him just before his leap. It swirled around him, just as it did around every Skywalker, but immediately Tristan knew that Arik had neither the skill nor the experience to execute such a maneuver on such unstable terrain.  
  
“Arik!” Tristan screamed as the boy fell backwards, scrapping his face and body against the metal edges of the junk as he fell from his perch.   
  
Tristan ran quickly towards the falling boy, reaching out and catching Arik just before he hit the scrap pile. He fell to his knees and held the shaking boy tightly for a moment.   
  
“Are you okay?” he asked gently after a moment, his breath returning and his heartbeat slowing down.   
  
Arik blinked disbelievingly at Tristan for a split second before becoming aware of the pain in his head. Blood ran down his face from a large gash on his forehead. Arik touched his small hand to the wound, starring in shock at the blood he saw on his hand. His fearlessness gone, the child burst into tears.   
  
“Shh,” Tristan soothed. ”It’s all right, Arik. You’re gonna be fine.”  
  
He stretched the sleeve of his tunic and held it to the cut. Arik continued to sob even as Tristan moved his hand from the cut and reached into the utility belt around his waist. He pulled out a few supplies and easily finished wiping clean the cut and putting a bacta patch over it.  
  
“We need to get you to the healers,” he announced, wiping the remnants of Arik’s tears. “This is good enough for now, but you’ll need some meds to prevent infection.”  
  
“I…can...can’t…leave…yet,” Arik gasped. “I...need…the circuit board.”   
  
“Huh?” Tristan looked up to the area at which Arik was pointing.   
  
Sure enough there was a slightly battered circuit board sticking up from the rubble.   
  
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he breathed, recoiling at the thought of the filth surrounding the circuit board.   
  
“I…I need it!” Arik wailed. “It’s a surprise…for Dad.”   
  
“Okay, okay,” Tristan murmured, squeezing Arik’s shoulders. “I’ll get it for you if you stop crying.”   
  
Arik nodded and wiped his tears. “Thank you, Tris,” Arik smiled.   
  
“You’ll owe me one,” Tristan added, getting to his feet and trying not to wince at the dirt covering his trousers.   
  
_These are going straight into the garbage chute,_ he vowed, leaping to the top of the pile and retrieving the circuit board for the boy.   
  
/  
  
Arik was resting comfortably in the Healers Ward, Tristan by his side when Anakin burst into the room.   
  
“Arik,” he said upon seeing his son. He scanned him from head to foot before pulling him into a tight embrace.   
  
“Are you all right?” he demanded and ruffled Arik’s hair as the boy nodded. “What happened?”   
  
Arik swallowed uncertainly. For all of his adventures, he’d never gotten into trouble before, but he had the sinking feeling that once he revealed his story to his father, that would change. But, Skywalkers were brave, so he took a deep breath and began explaining.  
  
“I…went to the Sudime Junkyard,” he admitted, hanging his head.   
  
“You what?” Anakin cried, his eyes narrowing. “You were supposed to be in class.”   
  
“Master Koon had an emergency,” Arik replied. “And I wanted to get the circuit board we needed and…”   
  
“Arik, you know better than to go the junkyard by yourself…”   
  
“I took him, Master,” Tristan suddenly interrupted.   
  
Anakin whirled around to face his teenage apprentice.  
  
“What?”   
  
Tristan ignored Arik’s stunned expression. “I took him, Master. He wanted to surprise you with the circuit board, so I volunteered to take him.”  
  
He handed the battered circuit board to Anakin, eyes fixed firmly on the floor.   
  
Anakin took the board, waiting silently for Tristan to continue.   
  
“Well, I appreciate that you wanted to surprise me but…” his voice trailed off. “You both know better than to pull a stunt like this. Both of you could have been seriously injured. You’re both lucky that all Arik ended up with is a cut.”  
  
“I’m sorry Dad.”   
  
“I’m sorry, Master.”   
  
“Your mother and I will discuss your punishment when we get home,” Anakin said, kissing Arik’s forehead. “I’m glad that you’re all right. I love you.”  
  
He then turned to face Tristan. “Master Windu and I will discuss your punishment.”  
  
Tristan nodded solemnly. “Yes, Master.”  
  
Anakin nodded before placing a gentle hand on Tristan’s shoulder. The young man looked up and their eyes met.   
  
“I’m glad that _you’re_ all right as well,” Anakin said softly. “Not my blood…”  
  
Tristan smiled. “…but my son just the same.”  
  
Like he had done with Arik, he leaned forward and placed a fatherly kiss on Tristan’s forehead as well.   
  
With that Anakin turned and left the room.   
  
A few moments went by before Arik turned to Tristan and frowned. “Why’d you cover for me?”  
  
Tristan hopped down from the bio-bed and placed his hand on Arik’s back, guiding the boy from the room. They left the Healer’s Ward together and were in the hallway before Tristan answered.   
  
“Not my blood…” he trailed off.  
  
Arik grinned. “…but my brother just the same.”  
  
The stepped into a turbolift and Tristan hugged the smaller child to him and ruffled his hair. “Brothers cover for one another. That’s why I did it.”   
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“You’re welcome, little brother.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**/**  
  
**Two Years Later**

**/**  
  
Yoda sat quietly in his chambers, deep in meditation. Many changes had come to the Jedi Order in the thirteen years since the defeat of the last of the Sith and while Yoda could see the need for change and agreed with them so far, he was deeply troubled by the increasing demands for even more change.   
  
The allowance of parental involvement in all aspects of the Initiate’s training had gone smoothly at first. Many of the parents were so enthralled with the Jedi, they made little if any request for change and trusted the teachers with whatever they wanted to do.   
  
Now, however, more and more parents were demanding changes in how their children were trained, what they were being trained in and which path they would ultimately follow as Jedi. Yoda respected the parent’s input but he was firm in his decree that the Jedi Council have the final word on training issues.   
  
He frowned, settling deeper and deeper into the Force, seeking guidance and wisdom. As Grand Master of the Jedi Order, he was still respected enough that his word was enough to keep tempers under control. While the parents yielded to his final decision on matters, he could sense the growing resentment. He knew that things could spiral out of control quickly.  
  
Yoda knew he would not be around forever and thus far, there was no one in the Jedi Order known and respected enough to take his place as the final authority on all matters. That was cause for great concern and would mean a complete restructuring of how the Order was run.   
  
He reached deeper into the Force, feeling it settling comfortably around him as a series of visions began to flash through his mind. Yoda saw himself coaching young Luke Skywalker in lightsaber techniques, battle katas and shielding.   
  
He saw himself teaching an eager Luke the traditions of the Order as well as tips on incorporating change while holding on to the basic principles of the Jedi.   
  
Yoda’s eyes snapped open. The Force had made its will clear to him, as he knew it would. He was to become Luke Skywalker’s Master.   
  
/  
  
Master Sarela Lerann finished her duties in the Archives, bade Jocasta Nu good evening and made her way to Yoda’s quarters hoping the diminutive Master would be free to speak with her.   
  
Sarela had become Jocasta Nu’s assistant sixteen years ago after the Battle of Geonosis had left her legs badly injured. While she was still able to walk, the Pydyrian suffered from terrible pain if she stood for long periods of time and was no longer able to go out on missions.   
  
While she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she was secretly relieved she was now able to spend all of her time at the Temple. Sarela was never much of a warrior and the Battle of Geonosis had not only left her physically injured, but emotionally scarred, shaken and unsure she would ever be able to do battle again. She was much more comfortable researching, cataloging and helping to train the Jedi going out on missions in different customs and diplomacy than actually completing a mission herself.   
  
She was quite content to spend the rest of her days with her current duties, however, in the last few months; she felt the urgent whisper of the Force prompting her down a slightly different path.   
  
/  
  
Yoda greeted Sarela warmly, welcoming her into his quarters. He prepared a fresh pot of his special Geillian tea while she sat silently on a rounded pod chair, her face lined with concern.   
  
“A problem you have?” he asked softly, pouring her a cup of tea.   
  
“I’m not sure,” she admitted taking a sip of the tea while Yoda poured himself a cup and settled into his chair. “I’m troubled, Master.”

 

Yoda gazed at her compassionately as she attempted a slight smile.

 

“I love my duties in the archive,” she began. “But lately, I’ve felt this…this…compelling urge to do more.”   
  
“Hmmm…” Yoda rubbed his chin. “When the Force speaks to us, listen we must.”   
  
Sarela nodded. “I know Master, but…but this doesn’t make any sense to me.”   
  
Yoda chuckled softly. “The ways of the Force, we do not always understand but guide us in the right direction, it always will.”   
  
Sarela snorted. “I can’t believe the Force would be advising me to...” she stopped suddenly, a flush creeping across her cheeks.   
  
“Take a Padawan Learner,” Yoda finished.   
  
Sarela’s head snapped up in shock. “How...how did you know?”   
  
“The same direction I have been given,” he replied. “No more sense to me does it make than to you it does.”   
  
“At least you can physically train,” Sarela said sadly. “I can barely walk.”

 

She slapped at her legs in frustration. “I can’t take a Padawan! I must be interpreting the Force wrong!”   
  
Yoda stood from his chair and hobbled over to Sarela. “Much to learn a Padawan has from you,” he assured her patting her arm gently.   
  
“But Master…”   
  
“No!” he snapped squeezing her hand. “Understand the why we must not, but do the will of the Force we will.”   
  
“I will,” Sarela sighed softly. “I’m sorry for bothering you, Master.”   
  
Yoda smiled compassionately at her. “A bother you are not. Now, someone in mind have you?”   
  
Sarela nodded, meeting his gaze. “Yes, Master. Leia Skywalker.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

   
/

  
Anakin slowly entered the Council Chambers and settled into his chair, forcing himself to run through a few calming exercises to settle his anxious nerves. Today’s council meeting was no ordinary one for him. It was the day Luke and Leia would be selected as Padawan Learners.   
  
He grinned, reflecting on their birth, their first steps, their first words, and the first time they held their miniature lightsabers. How had this day arrived so fast? It seemed to him that it had been just days before that he held them both in his arms on Naboo.  
  
“How are you holding up?”   
  
Anakin opened his eyes to find Garen Muln smiling sympathetically at him.

 

“I’m all right,” he sighed, running his hand through his long hair as Yoda hobbled into the room.   
  
Garen took his seat next to Anakin’s chuckling softly.   
  
“I think,” Anakin added as the meeting was called to order.   
  
The meeting progressed smoothly as the Council approved of the requested pairings. Since anyone wishing to take a Padawan meditated on it for weeks or months, requests were rarely turned down.   
  
“Two requests we have left,” Yoda finally announced, much to Anakin’s relief.   
  
“Master Sarela Lerann has requested Leia Skywalker as her Padawan, and young Leia, agreed she has.”   
  
Anakin’s eyes widened in shock as the rest of the Council muttered their surprise. While he respected Master Lerann, Anakin was concerned about her limited abilities and he wanted Leia to have a suitable mentor.   
  
“Master Lerann?” Garen finally asked, turning to Yoda in confusion. ”Are you certain, Master?”  
  
Yoda held up his hand to quiet the whisperings. “The will of the Force I feel this is.”

 

He gazed at Anakin firmly.

 

“No ordinary Jedi Leia Skywalker will be,” he said. “Special training she will need.”   
  
Anakin sat back in his chair, startled by Yoda’s words.

 

“What?” he gasped. “Leia is strong in the Force. I’ve felt it. Master, I think…”   
  
“Strong in the Force she is,” Yoda confirmed, nodding his head. “But suited for the life of a typical Jedi she is not.”   
  
Anakin swallowed his rising anger. What was Yoda talking about? His daughter was every bit as suited to the life of a Jedi as anyone else.

  
“What do you mean by that?” Anakin demanded.

 

Mace Windu leaned forward in his seat. “You must have noticed her reluctance to participate in combat training and saber techniques. She’s not a typical child, Anakin. Her talents lie along another path.”   
  
“I...I...” Anakin frowned. “She’s still a young girl. I’m sure she’ll grow to…”   
  
“No,” Yoda declared simply. “Force training on her we must not. Her own path Leia must choose.”   
  
Anakin sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “So you’re going to sentence her to a life in the archives?” he said bitterly.   
  
“Said that, I did not!” Yoda snapped, tapping his gimmer stick on the floor to emphasize his point.

 

“Train Leia in history, diplomacy, and various customs Sarela Lerann will,” he paused waiting for Anakin to meet his gaze. “Train Leia in defense and shielding, Master Barriss Offee will. Accompany Master Offee on diplomatic missions Leia will.”   
  
Anakin’s mouth dropped open in shock. Leia was to have two masters. That was unheard of.

 

“I…I’m…thank you, Master,” he breathed, truly grateful Leia would experience missions away from the Temple.   
  
“Requesting to train Luke Skywalker, I am,” Yoda declared a moment later sending a shockwave reverberating throughout the chamber.   
  
“At your age?!” Anakin blurted before anyone recovered from the shock.   
  
Yoda’s eyes narrowed.   
  
Anakin bit his lip, regretting his words. “Uh…I…I…mean…uh…”   
  
“For eight-hundred years have I trained Jedi,” Yoda replied in an even tone. “My own council I will keep on when age limits a Jedi.”  
  
“Master, are you sure you want to do this on top of all your other duties?” Mace asked cautiously.   
  
“Meditated on this I have,” Yoda said simply. “A special destiny young Skywalker has. Teach him I must. On missions he will accompany whichever Master needs assistance.”

 

Anakin sat quietly, his mind reeling. First Leia receives two Masters and now Luke would be trained by many more than that.   
  
“What sort of destiny?” Kit Fisto inquired.   
  
“Uncertain that is,” Yoda admitted. “Always in motion is the future. Follow the guidance of the Force we must.”

 

He gazed at each of the Masters before him. “Vote on this we shall.”   
  
Anakin was scarcely aware of the rest of the meeting. He voted along with the rest of the Council to approve Yoda’s request. He didn’t understand why his children were chosen for special training, but he knew better than to question the will of the Force.

 

/

 

”Still okay?” Garen asked as he and Anakin were leaving the Council chamber.

 

Anakin took a deep breath and shook his head. “This is all so strange, Garen. I don’t…I don’t know what to think. I wish Obi-Wan…”

 

Garen rested a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You wish he was here.”

 

“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I thought I’d finally been able to let him go. I thought I’d grown up enough to not need him anymore. I have three children of my own, plus Tristan, and some days I feel like that young, scared, impressionable nine-year old and all I want is Obi-Wan to tell me it’ll all be okay.”

 

Garen nodded sadly. “I wish he was here too. My reasons may be different from yours, but I miss him just as much.”

 

Anakin felt better just knowing he wasn’t the only one missing Obi-Wan.

 

“Well, maybe the answers as to why my children are different will come to me in my meditations.”

 

“Good luck with that,” Garen said. “I’ll see you later.”

 

Anakin watched his friend was away before turning and heading off in the opposite direction.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 

/

  
  
Luke shifted his weight from foot to foot, carefully studying the movements of his opponent, Tuc Ilesar, as he waited for the next series of attacks.   
  
Yoda stood a few feet away from the training area, his eyes darting between both young boys, his mind open to the Force.   
  
Tuc lurched forward with an onslaught of strikes. Luke blocked each blow, but was driven backwards by the taller boy in the process.   
  
He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, his eyes narrowing into thin slits as his frustration grew as he remained unable to get the upper hand. Tuc, sensing victory was close, increased the speed of his attack as Yoda stepped forward, a look of concern on his face.   
  
Luke took one step back, ducked and quickly turned catching Tuc off guard. Using the Force, he somersaulted over Tuc’s head. Tuc had barely turned around when Luke began his assault of slashes that quickly knocked Tuc’s lightsaber from his hands.

 

Luke stood triumphantly over his opponent, a slight smirk gracing his features.  
  
“Enough!” Yoda shouted, taping his gimer stick forcefully.   
  
“Master?” Luke questioned as he turned to Yoda in surprise.   
  
Tuc shakily got to his feet, collecting his lightsaber; no small amount of fear reflected in his dark eyes.

 

“Good match,” he mumbled, bowing gracefully.   
  
“To your quarters return, Tuc,” Yoda said, smiling compassionately at the young boy. “Performed well you did.”   
  
“Thank you, Master,” Tuc bowed and quickly left the room.   
  
“Master, why did you stop the match?” Luke asked, dropping to one knee so as to be more level with his diminutive mentor. “I won.”   
  
Yoda sighed, shaking his head. “Drew upon your frustration to make your attack more powerful you did. Teach you that did I?”   
  
“No, but what difference does that make? I won!”   
  
“Anger, frustration, fear; the dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow; quick to join in a fight they are. Beware of them!” Yoda instructed as he leaned forward, starring forcefully into Luke’s eyes. “For the power they bring, a heavy price is paid.”   
  
“Price?” Luke frowned. “What do you mean, Master?”   
  
“The dark side beckons,” Yoda warned. “Once down the dark path you start, forever will it dominate your destiny. Consume you it will.”   
  
“Is the dark side stronger?” the boy wondered out loud.  
  
“No,” Yoda was quick to answer. “Easier, quicker, more seductive it is.”   
  
Luke swallowed and nodded. “Dad told me about how close he came…”   
  
Yoda nodded, patting his arm gently. “Remembered his training your father did. A strong, powerful Jedi is your father. The Force is his ally.”   
  
”Master, how will I know the good side from the bad?”  
  
“You will know,” Yoda replied. “When at peace you are; calm, passive. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge, wisdom; never for attack.”   
  
“I’m sorry, Master,” Luke whispered brokenly, hanging his head. He realized his mistake and his shoulders slumped under the weight of his failure.  
  
Yoda reached out and lifted Luke’s chin with one pointed finger. “If remember your training and Anakin’s experience, resist the dark side you will, young Skywalker.”  
  
/  


“Leia, I’m afraid I’m running a bit behind this afternoon,” Sarela Lerann greeted as Leia arrived at the archives. “Would you mind helping me by filing the reports from Adari? We can begin our studies afterwards.”   
  
“Of course, Master,” Leia said as she picked up the datapads and scanned the contents as she quickly put them in order. When she reached the third datapad, she gasped in horror at what she read.   
  
”Hundreds die every day while thousands are left starving as authorities struggle to find a solution to environmental problems prohibiting the growth and harvesting of crops,” she read softly to herself.  
  
“Master!” Leia gasped and dropped the remaining datapads and raced to Sarela’s side.   
  
“My goodness, what is it, Leia?” Sarela turned to her in surprise.   
  
“What are we doing to help?” Leia asked, handing her bewildered Master the datapad. “It doesn’t say anything about how the Republic or the Jedi are helping?”   
  
Sarela glanced at the report and sighed. “That’s because we aren’t providing any help at the moment.”   
  
“What!”   
  
“Leia Skywalker, lower your tone!” Sarela admonished.   
  
“Sorry, Master,” Leia flushed. “Why aren’t we helping?”   
  
“Because the authorities on Adari haven’t asked for it,” Sarela replied sadly. ”Until they do, we cannot interfere.”  
  
“So we just sit back while people are suffering and dying?” Leia questioned softly, tears gathering in her dark eyes.  
  
Sarela studied the heartache in Leia’s eyes. She could see as well as sense the desire to help within their depths and her heart broke at the turmoil the girl felt for being unable to provide that help.

 

“We can’t force the Adarians to accept our help,” she explained gently. “Chancellor Organa has pledged whatever aide they need but so far his offer of assistance has been refused. They are a prideful and independent people who would sooner die than accept help.”   
  
“But we can’t just sit back and do nothing,” Leia cried.   
  
“What do you think we should do?” Sarela asked.   
  
Leia thought silently for a moment.

 

“We could sneak in,” she suggested, a smile beginning to form on her face. “And give the people food and medicine if they need it without the Adari government knowing.”   
  
“If only it were that easy,” Sarela replied.   
  
“We’re Jedi, we could do it!” Leia insisted.   
  
“For one thing,” Sarela began, “There is no way for us to _sneak_ one ship, let alone several hundred onto Adari without the government finding out.”   
  
Leia sighed, her shoulders slumping.   
  
“And for another,” Sarela continued, lifting Leia’s chin to meet her compassionate gaze. “Neither the Republic nor the Jedi can override any government’s direct wishes simply because we don’t like them.”   
  
“But the people are dying,” Leia protested weakly. ”It just isn’t right.”  
  
“I know,” Sarela admitted. “But imagine for a moment if the Republic were to suddenly go around the galaxy imposing our will on unsuspecting peoples and their governments against their express wishes to the contrary. This Republic is a democracy, Leia, not a dictatorship.”   
  
”What if it’s better for them, taking our help whether they like it or not? They should just understand that we’re right and they need to do what we tell them. We have the power to do that.”  
  
Sarela tightened her grip on Leia’s shoulder, her mind flashing back seventeen years ago when Chancellor Palpatine made that same argument to justify his actions during the Clone Wars. He wanted everyone to bow down to his will because he believed it was right and thought everyone else should believe it as well.  
  
“Leia, it’s wrong for one person, or even a group of people like the Jedi or the Senate to decide what’s in the best interests of another person or another group of people against their will,” she finally answered. “We learned that under Chancellor Palpatine. He wanted to Emperor, to control the masses. Is that what you want?”   
  
Leia shuddered, remembering the stories her parents told her and her brothers about how close Palpatine had come to ruling the entire galaxy with an iron first, imposing his rule on billions of galactic citizens, against their will.  
  
“I understand,” she whispered softly.   
  
Sarela hugged her tightly. “Leia, you’re so young right now that you see life in black and white. It’s a gift which children have, being able to see right and wrong and nothing that lies in between. Unfortunately, as you grow older and learn more about life, both inside and outside the context of being a Jedi Knight, you’re going to see terrible injustices and tragedies throughout the galaxy. Unfortunately, you’re going to discover that life is not lived in black and white, but most often in varying shades of gray, even for the Jedi, keepers of peace and justice that we are.”

 

The tears that filled her eyes earlier fell then as she listened to the words of her wise mentor.

 

“Adari is one such tragedy and injustice,” Sarela explained gently. “The government is willing to let its people starve or worse to preserve its pride and independence. We cannot change that. We’ve offered help and it has been refused. So, we move on to the next world whose people _will_ accept our help when we offer it. As Jedi, that is what we do. We help when and where we can. That is all we can do.”

 

Leia nodded and wiped away her tears. “I just wish…”

 

Sarela smiled. “…that you could help. I know, child, I know.”

 

The two finished filing the reports before they delved into Leia’s training. She’d already learned a valuable lesson that day, one which Sarela had hoped would not come so soon. She’d wished the girl could have managed a few more years of seeing in black and white before the Force manifested the gray areas in her life.

 

“By the will of the Force, we go,” she whispered to herself as she set Leia to her lessons.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 

/

 

**Two Years Later**

 

/

 

Padme, whose official title was Senate Liaison to the Chancellor, was working quietly when her desktop intercom chirped.

 

“Yes?”  
  
“Senator Jade has arrived for your appointment,” the crisp voice of Padme’s receptionist announced efficiently.   
  
“Show him in, Danara,” Padme said as she rose from her desk, moving to the center of her small office to greet her guest. A moment later, the door opened and a tall, stately man around her age entered behind her receptionist.   
  
“Mrs. Skywalker, a pleasure,” the Senator shook her hand firmly. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”   
  
The receptionist discreetly slipped from the room closing the door behind her.   
  
“Senator Jade,” Padme greeted leading him to her small reception area consisting of several comfortable chairs surrounding an oblong table.   
  
“Please, I insist that you call me Darex,” he replied with a pleasant smile as he took his seat.   
  
“Darex,” Padme repeated. “And you may call me Padme. Mrs. Skywalker makes me feel rather old. Would you like some caf? I have a fresh pot…”   
  
“No, no, thank you,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I need to get right down to business.”

 

He sighed heavily. “What do you know of the planet Arkania and her people?”  
  
“The basics,” Padme nodded, her brows furrowing. “They pride themselves of being the leaders in many advanced forms of technology. Arkania boasts the two leading scientists in the galaxy where cyborg creation and micro-circuitry are concerned. They rarely travel off planet and only invite on planet those to whom they wish to peddle their technology.”   
  
“And generally speaking, the only time they are in the news is when a new technological advance of theirs in unveiled,” Darex added. “Therefore, it will come as a surprise to you that a mysterious illness has spread across the planet and killed twenty percent of the population, including Supreme Governor Jabril. The story ran on the HoloNet News nearly one hour ago.”   
  
Padme’s mouth dropped open.

 

“What?” she gasped. “But that’s impossible! The Chancellor would have been contacted immediately, before it hit the news programs.”   
  
“The Chancellor _should_ have been contacted,” Darex corrected. “But the Arkanians wish to deal with this matter privately.”   
  
“Privately?” Padme choked. “How are they supposed to deal with the death of their governor, who also serves this Republic as Arkania’s senator, privately?”   
  
“Well, the citizens are aware,” Darex explained. “In fact they will be having elections in a few days to name a new governor.”   
  
“I guess the Republic wasn’t supposed to notice a different Governor of Arkania,” Padme responded sarcastically. ”Do the citizens of Arkania also assume that whomever they elect as governor will also take over Jabril’s place as Galactic Senator of Arkania?”  
  
“I assume they would have mentioned the change in representation before the new Senate session opened,” Darex chuckled. “As for them assuming that their new governor will also be there new senator, I cannot answer. I have no idea. Truthfully, I would assume so. The position has been a dual one on their planet for centuries. The Senate has allowed it because it hasn’t caused any problems.”

 

Padme huffed, clearly displeased with that sentiment. “Perhaps now it has become a problem.”

 

”At any rate, this situation is why I’m here,” he added soberly. “The Arkanians have been devastated by the rapid spread of this illness and they have contacted the Republic with a request that medical supplies, food and water be delivered as soon as possible.”

 

Padme nodded as she looked at Darex, the chairman of the Republic Emergency Management Committee. “That seems a reasonable request.”

 

“They want their supplies delivered by the Jedi,” he then revealed.  
  
“The Jedi?” Padme ventured as she sat back in her chair. “Why the Jedi? The Republic has thousands of volunteers who provide delivery and distribution of emergency supplies wherever they are needed.”   
  
“Yes, I know,” Darex sighed. “But the Arkanian’s are afraid of their technological secrets being stolen and they trust only the Jedi. In fact, one of their requests is that Master Yoda himself be present to oversee the team of Jedi he sends. It seems he has good relations with the Arkanians.”   
  
“They don’t want much, do they?” Padme snorted.

 

“I’m a bit confused,” she confessed gazing into Darex’s clear green eyes. “If the Arkanian’s are so insistent on the Jedi providing the relief, why are you here meeting with me? Why not go directly to the Jedi?”   
  
“While the Arkanian’s have no respect for the Republic’s policies, I do,” Darex replied simply. “As protocol dictates, all requests for relief aide are to be put before the Chancellor first. I felt it appropriate to come to you as a means of getting the Arkanians request to him before going to the Jedi.”   
  
Padme nodded. She understood his cautious approach to this situation. “Have you had dealings with the Jedi?”

 

“Yes, my daughter is a Padawan Learner at the Temple,” Darex confessed. “You may have met her. She’s good friends with your children, especially your son Luke.”   
  
“Mara! Mara is your daughter!” Padme exclaimed. “I should have guessed. She looks just like you.”   
  
“Thank you,” Darex breathed, flushing slightly. “She is the light of my life.”   
  
“I’m sorry we haven’t met sooner,” Padme said with a sigh. “I try to get to the Temple as often as I can, but more and more I find my duties limiting my time with them to evening meals.”   
  
“Oh, you don’t have to apologize,” Darex laughed. “My schedule is the much the same. Thankfully I have been able to attend the major achievements in Mara’s life and she has been very understanding and supportive.”   
  
“She’s an amazing young woman,” Padme replied. “I’ve met her several times and my children enjoy spending time with her.”   
  
“She is,” Darex smiled wistfully. “I’m very lucky to have her for a daughter.”

 

He paused before clearing his throat. “I was wondering if you could help arrange a private meeting with Master Yoda for me.”   
  
Padme blinked in surprise. “You don’t need me for that. As the parent of a Padawan you have the right…”   
  
“This needs to be completely private and off the record,” Darex interrupted with a wave of his hand. “I cannot risk making an appointment. I’d like to keep this from the Arkanians until I have an answer from the Temple. If I go through official channels to make the meeting request, the Arkanian government will be aware of it and realize I came to the chancellor before the Jedi. I thought your husband, being on the High Council, could set something up.”   
  
“I’m sure he could, and I’ll make certain Bail is aware of the situation as well.”   
  
“I appreciate it,” Darex replied rising to his feet. “I’m sorry but I must be going for another appointment.”   
  
“I’ll contact you as soon as…”   
  
Darex shook his head.

 

“I would prefer it if you could send the information home with Mara. We have dinner every evening,” he explained. “It would be more discreet that way.”   
  
“Of course,” Padme rose, walking him to the door.   
  
“I’m sorry for all the secrecy,” Darex said softly. “I just want to make sure we can provide the Arkanians with the relief they need, no matter how outrageous their terms. I don’t want to get their hopes up if the Jedi refuse their…demand.”   
  
“I understand,” Padme assured him. “I’ll ask Anakin to set up a meeting as soon as possible.”   
  
“Thank you,” he replied softly as he left her office.

 

/

 

“Highly unusual, this request is,” Yoda said to Anakin as the two made their way along the dim corridors of the Temple.

 

Anakin, with his long hair tied back with a leather band and hanging regally down past his broad shoulders, nodded. “I agree, Master. When Padme approached me about her conversation with Senator Jade, I was shocked to say the least. The Arkanians are known to keep to themselves and deplore outside contact, but to practically demand help from the Jedi; it makes little sense, Master.”

 

Yoda, seated on a hover chair, looked over at the tall Jedi walking beside him. “Sense something amiss, do you?”

 

Anakin chuckled. “Oddly enough, no I don’t. I just find it odd that the Republic’s usual method of relief delivery is being cast aside in favor of the Jedi. It seems to be overkill, Master.”

 

Yoda was silent for a few moments as he considered the situation.

 

Anakin wrapped his arms in his cloak as he waited patiently for Yoda to make his decision.

 

“Help, we will,” the diminutive Jedi stated.

 

Anakin nodded. “I’ll inform Senator Jade of your decision, Master. I’m sure the Arkanians are waiting for their answer.”

 

He bowed respectfully to Yoda before heading off to the comm room to send a message to Darex Jade.

 

“Humph,” Yoda muttered. “Unusual indeed.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 

/

 

Garen Muln swept into the Council chambers, his cloak swishing behind him as he walked. His ground-eating strides took him to his seat within seconds.

 

Anakin turned from his position looking out at the city and smiled at his closest friend. In the years since Obi-Wan’s death, Garen had become a staunch and steadfast supporter and mentor.

 

He noticed the troubled look on Garen’s face and went to sit in his own seat next to the older man.

 

“Anything wrong?” he asked softly.

 

Garen met Anakin’s stare and gave him an impish grin. “No, not…wrong. I’m actually glad you’re here already. There’s something you should know.”

 

Anakin’s brows furrowed. “What?”

 

Garen grinned again. “I’ve spoken with Arik, and he’s agreed to become my Padawan.”

 

Anakin was stunned. He’d forgotten that Arik was now thirteen years old and ready to become a Padawan Learner.

 

“Wow,” was all he could manage. “I…”

 

Garen chuckled softly. “I know. It seems like yesterday that I came to Naboo just after he was born. I can still remember how it felt to hold him then.”

 

Anakin smiled. “The two of you have had a bond since that moment. I could sense it even then. I’m happy that he’ll have you guiding him.”

 

Garen released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank you.”

 

Anakin slapped his friend on the back and laughed. “Let’s see if you can still say that after you spend the next ten or so years putting up with his…impulsiveness.”

 

The two men continued talking and laughing softly until Yoda and Mace Windu entered the room.

 

/

 

Anakin choked back his smile of pride as Luke and Leia were escorted into the Council chamber followed by Mara Jade, Tristan and Barriss Offee. The decision to go to Arkania had been made and he was overwhelmed his oldest two children would be included on the mission; their first major assignment off-planet.   
  
Yoda quickly called the meeting to order and explained the situation on Arkania.   
  
“We’ve put together four teams to carry out every aspect of the mission,” Mace Windu continued. “Master Shaak-Ti, you and Mara Jade will oversee the delivery of supplies and make sure they are distributed to the correct areas.”   
  
Shaak-Ti and Mara gave simultaneous nods.   
  
“Master Fisto, you and Luke Skywalker will head the convoy delivering supplies to the clans outside the Capital.”   
  
Anakin bit his lip to suppress a laugh as he felt a surge of pride flow through his son. Luke was finally getting his long desired adventure.   
  
“Master Offee, you and Leia Skywalker will run the main distribution center in the Capital. You will hand out the supplies and oversee any medical attention the citizens need.”   
  
Barriss nodded her understanding while Leia beamed in happiness. This was exactly the kind of work she wanted to do the most. She wanted to be in a position to help people who needed it most.  
  
“Master Skywalker,” Mace turned his pointed stare to Anakin. “You and Tristan will work with the local security team patrolling the capital streets. You will assist in keeping everything orderly while the supplies are being handed out and the elections are held.”   
  
“Are you expecting trouble?” Tristan asked, his deep voice resonating throughout the room.   
  
_Good_ , Anakin thought. _He’s showing the Council he’s taking the mission seriously enough to think ahead_. Perhaps, at twenty years old, he was finally starting to mature.  
  
“No,” Mace replied. “The Arkanians are a peaceful people. The security measures are just a precaution. We expect this to be a routine mission. You will need to keep in mind the Arkanians expect things to be done their way.”   
  
“Will we be reporting to them, then?” Barriss wondered.   
  
“No,” Yoda answered, shaking his head. “Go with you on this mission I will.”

 

He paused in amusement as the rest of the Council exchanged surprised looks.

 

“Requested to oversee all Jedi activity I was,” he explained.   
  
Luke’s head snapped up in shock.

 

“Master?” he took a tentative step forward. “If you’re coming, why can’t I stay with you?”   
  
“Needed you are to distribute the supplies,” Yoda replied softly. “Take too long it would for one to handle alone…even for a Jedi Master.”   
  
“But...but I’m your Padawan,” Luke said, his voice tinged with hurt. “My place is by your side.”   
  
“Need you more the citizens without food, water and medicine do,” Yoda pointed out.

 

“Required I am to placate government officials,” he paused, rolling his eyes dramatically causing several snorts of laughter. “Boring, it will be.”   
  
“What does boring have to do with me performing my duties as your padawan?” Luke argued. “Dad told me all about the boring missions you assigned to his Master and he still had to go.”   
  
Anakin squirmed in embarrassment as every eye in the chamber suddenly turned to him.   
  
”Luke!”   
  
Luke winced.   
  
“Humph,” Yoda grunted, tapping his gimer stick.

 

“Assigned to Master Fisto you have been,” he continued holding up one clawed hand when Luke opened his mouth to interrupt. “Final my decision is.”   
  
“Yes Master,” Luke sighed, shoulders slumped, the excitement of being sent on his first big mission suddenly diminished.   
  
“A freighter is currently being prepared for your journey,” Mace picked up. “Be prepared to leave in two hours. May the Force be with you all.”   
  
/  
  
Luke waited a few feet from the Council chambers until the massive doors swung open and the room began to clear. He gave a quick nod to each of the Masters as they passed by him, his eyes searching the emptying room.   
  
Anakin finally finished speaking with Yoda and stepped into the hallway, stopping abruptly when he spotted his son.   
  
“I’m sorry about that, Dad,” Luke nodded towards the council room, flashing an exact replica of his father’s lopsided grin.   
  
“Now you know why you shouldn’t be so quick to speak,” Anakin admonished gently, dropping his arm around Luke’s shoulders. ”You’re fifteen years of age now, well old enough to think before you speak.”  
  
“I was just…disa…,” Luke gulped,”…surprised Master Yoda is coming with us. I still don’t understand why I can’t stay with him.”   
  
“Son, you have to trust Yoda knows what he is doing,” Anakin sighed. “He’s one of the few offworlders the Arkanian’s will deal with and the only one they trust.”   
  
“I know,” Luke grumbled. “I just wish…”   
  
“Trust me when I say, the last place you want to be is in a room full of politicians.”   
  
Luke glanced at his father from the corner of his eye. “You’d better not let Mom or Leia hear you say that.”   
  
“You’d better not let it slip I said that,” Anakin laughed, reaching over and ruffling Luke’s hair.   
  
“Dad!” Luke protested weakly.   
  
Anakin laughed, draping his arm across Luke’s shoulders as they walked.  
  
Neither was aware of Tristan’s intense scrutiny as he followed silently behind them.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 

/

 

**Twelve Days Later**

 

/

 

Unable to sleep as his thoughts swirled in his head, Luke climbed from his bed. He cautiously palmed open the door to the sleeping quarters. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure neither his father, Tristan nor Master Fisto had been awakened by his actions, he slowly walked through the darkened hull, carefully muffling his steps as he passed Master Yoda’s quarters.   
  
_Good, I made it,_ he thought as he stepped into the holding area.   
  
“Up a little late, aren’t you, Skywalker?”   
  
Luke whirled around to find an amused Mara Jade smiling at him. He shrugged as a slight flush began to creep across his cheeks.   
  
“Did I wake you?” he whispered, peeking over her shoulder to the women’s quarters.   
  
“No,” Mara shook her head, settling into a well worn chair, tucking her legs beneath her. “I never sleep much on the way to a new mission. I need the extra time to prepare for every possible variable that could happen.”   
  
“Are you expecting trouble?” Luke frowned, sitting across from her. “The Council is expecting this to be a routine mission. Master Yoda even said it would be boring.”   
  
“He said _his_ part would be boring,” Mara corrected. “And no, I’m not expecting anything. I just like to be prepared for everything.”   
  
Luke nodded, studying her silently for a few moments, his young eyes drinking in the beauty of her flaming red hair and her perfectly sculpted face. “Are you nervous at all?”

 

He studied the floor as he waited for her answer. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t dream of asking another Jedi such a question, especially a female Jedi but he and Mara had a special friendship and he knew she would understand his feelings and not think less of him for them.   
  
“Not nervous,” Mara replied, her brows furrowed in thought. “Just cautious, I suppose. I just think that something seems out of place with the Arkanian’s demands. Their security could protect their precious microcircuitry and cyborging technology from the mercenaries the Republic has. Why bring in Jedi?”   
  
“Maybe they are too run down from the illness,” Luke offered. “And they trust Master Yoda.”   
  
“But not the rest of us,” Mara pointed out. “Why? I mean, they’ve requested help and now seem loathe to trust any of us. Does that make any sense to you, Skywalker?”   
  
Luke shrugged, unable to come up with a response to that question and statement.   
  
“That’s why I’m preparing for what may come,” she concluded.   
  
“How do you prepare for the unexpected, which may or may not happen?” Luke wondered aloud.   
  
“You start by getting an adequate night’s sleep.”   
  
Luke and Mara jumped, turning to find a disheveled Anakin standing at the entrance to the hold, hands on his hips.   
  
“Master Skywalker!”   
  
“Dad!”   
  
They rose guiltily from their chairs.   
  
“Good night, Master Skywalker,” Mara beat a hasty retreat, stopping briefly to place a kiss on Luke’s cheek.

 

Anakin didn’t miss the kiss his son had just received and it caused him to release a big sigh. He hadn’t been looking forward to this stage of parenthood.  
  
“Did we wake you?” Luke asked sheepishly, blushing deeply as he followed Anakin back to their quarters.   
  
“No,” Anakin yawned. “I can always tell when one of my children is up when they’re not supposed to be.”   
  
“Oh,” Luke sighed, silently cursing the Force.   
  
“The Force has nothing to do with it,” Anakin chuckled. “It some sort of mysterious gift every parent gets the day their child is born.”   
  
Luke laughed, thinking back to all times when he was up during the night and his mother would always appear to check on him. In all his fifteen years, there had never been a single time when she didn’t get up after him.

 

”Dad?” Luke asked softly just before they reached their quarters.

 

Anakin knew what was coming. “Yes?”

 

Luke shuffled his feet back and forth for a moment before speaking. “Mara…well, you saw that she…she…”

 

Anakin chuckled. “She kissed you.”

 

Luke nodded, blushing again for good measure. “Yeah. Why’d she do it?”

 

Anakin cleared his throat. “Well, I’m not an expert seeing as I have no experience with women beyond your mother, but it seems to me that she kissed you because she likes you.”

 

Luke frowned, confusing his father.

 

“You don’t want her to like you?” he asked gently, leading his son to the sitting area outside their quarters.

 

“It’s not that,” Luke assured Anakin. “It’s…I like her too, Dad.”

 

Anakin smiled. “I figured that much for myself, Son.”

 

“Dad,” Luke groaned. “I mean I _really_ like her; like her so much I was tempted to…turn my head when she kissed my cheek so she’d…well, you get it.”

 

Anakin placed a gentle hand atop Luke’s. “Yes, I get it. Luke, I want you to listen to me very carefully. When I was your age, I was already hopelessly in love with your mother and she saw me then as nothing more than a child.”

 

“But…” Luke tried to interrupt.

 

Anakin held up his hand. “Listen. I know it seems that Mara feels the same for you as you do for her, and that may well be the case, or it may not. I want you to give yourself time to grow up before you decide who you _really_ like. If Mara is the woman you end up falling in love with and she feels the same for you, then I’m all for it, but I want you to be prepared for her to see you as nothing more than a friend. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

 

Luke nodded. “I understand.”

 

Anakin smiled. “Good. Now, let’s get to bed and get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

 

They both entered their quarters then and quickly they were both asleep.  
  
/  
  
The freighter carrying the Jedi arrived on Arkania the next morning without incident. Yoda lead the procession of Jedi down the ramp where a small welcoming committee was waiting for them.   
  
“Welcome, Master Yoda,” said a tall, lean Arkanian dressed in official government robes stepped forward, bowing deeply. “I am Kodai Verbeke, acting governor of Arkania.”   
  
“Pleased to meet you, I am,” Yoda replied with a nod of his head.   
  
“I have several members of my personal security team all ready to oversee the Jedi you brought with you,” Verbeke announced, gesturing to a group of well-built men standing off to the side. “I’d thought we’d...”   
  
“No,” Yoda tapped his gimer stick forcefully on the ramp.   
  
Verbeke starred down at Yoda in shock. “Ex…excuse me? I thought our terms were clear.”   
  
“Clear they were,” Yoda replied. “No mention of Arkanian’s overseeing Jedi was there.”

 

Standing behind Yoda, Anakin had to stifle a laugh at the expression on Verbeke’s face as he was rebuked by the diminutive Jedi Master.

 

Yoda then glared at Verbeke. “Agree to such a term, I will not.”   
  
Verbeke’s mouth fell open. “Bu…bu…but…”   
  
“Four teams of Jedi I have brought,” Yoda continued, ignoring Verbeke. “In charge of distributing supplies they will be. Work with your security we will. In charge of the Jedi _I am._ ” __  
  
Verbeke exchanged glances with his aides.

 

“Very well,” he sighed. “May I suggest one member of my security team be assigned to each of your Jedi teams?”   
  
Yoda’s eyes narrowed.   
  
“As an advisor only,” Verbeke quickly added. “We have certain ways of doing things here and while we don’t expect the Jedi to be aware of those ways, we would like you to keep to them.”   
  
“Agreed,” Yoda replied with a wave of his hand.   
  
“Thank you,” Verbeke breathed. “I invite you to join me in the governor’s offices. We can monitor the distribution of supplies there as well as follow the elections being held in a couple days.”   
  
Yoda nodded, turning to face the Jedi behind him as Verbeke stepped away slightly to speak with his men. “Master Skywalker.”   
  
Anakin knelt quickly in front of him. “Work with the Arkanian’s security the Masters will. The Padawans will follow their Master’s directions,” he instructed.   
  
Anakin nodded. ”Yes, Master.”  
  
Yoda leaned forward slightly, gesturing Anakin closer.

 

“Be mindful of ulterior motives,” he cautioned silently. “Observe carefully the actions of _all_ the Arkanians.”   
  
Anakin eyed the security team with thinly veiled suspicion. “I understand, Master.”

 

Yoda had to suppress a grin at the determination in Anakin’s voice. He reminded the small Jedi of Obi-Wan in that moment.

 

“Proud of you, he would be,” Yoda muttered just loud enough for Anakin to hear. “May the Force be with you, Master Skywalker.”

 

Anakin stood and bowed. “May the Force be with us all, Master.”

 

Yoda hobbled away then, following Verbeke and leaving the others to begin tending to business.

 

Anakin looked up at the clouds and sighed. “I hope you’re proud. Keep a watch the next couple of days, Master.”

 

With that, Anakin took a deep breath and set off to work.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

 

/  
  
Luke worked silently beside Kit Fisto, his muscles burning as they checked off the supplies that were to be part of the convoy, occasionally sneaking glances around the busy landing docks. Several ships had arrived in the short time they’d been there and were waiting to have their supplies inventoried by Mara and Shaak-Ti before being unloaded and distributed to the correct areas for delivery.   
  
He sighed as he checked off the last of the medical supplies, anxious to be underway. He stared blankly ahead wondering if they would encounter any danger during the trip. A smile began to form on his lips as he imagined shadowy figures advancing on the convoy…   
  
“Luke.”   
  
_Drawing his lightsaber in warning…_  
  
“Luke.”   
  
_“Igniting the saber as the creatures continued their approach…_  
  
“Luke!” Kit Fisto’s insistent voice finally broke through his thoughts.   
  
“Huh?” Luke shook his head, blinking rapidly.   
  
“The food supplies are ready to be checked,” said Fisto as he pointed to a pile of rations a few feet away.   
  
“Yes, Master.”

 

Flushing with embarrassment, Luke scurried over to the rations.

 

”Such a dreamer, just like your father,” Kit whispered to himself as he finished his task and moved to help Luke with the food supplies.”  


/

 

Mara handed the inventory list to Shaak-Ti, who immediately began issuing orders to the ship’s crew on where to distribute the supplies. She sighed softly, her eyes scanning the landing port, wishing she could be anywhere but here.   
  
Why couldn’t she have been assigned to Master Skywalker and the security team? At least then she’d be able to see the capital and its mysterious inhabitants; or been able to go with Master Offee, though being stuck in another building hardly held more appeal. At least Master Offee and Leia would be dealing with the Arkanians one-on-one.   
  
Her eyes landed on Luke, smiling at his reddened face. _He must have been daydreaming again,_ she mused with a grin. His assignment was the only one she was glad she didn’t have. Riding some smelly old beast through the barren lands of a strange planet was not her idea of fun.   
  
She was about to turn her attention back to the ship in front of her, when she caught a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. Mara turned in time to spot a short, stocky Arkanian looking hastily from side to side before entering the cargo hold of one of the ships waiting to be inspected.   
  
Without a thought, she crept over to the ship silently, standing off to the side of the ramp. Peering inside, she watched as the Arkanian ruffled through a box marked food rations. Satisfied with his search, he closed the box, picked it up and headed down the ramp.   
  
“Stop,” Mara commanded, stepping in front of the ramp.   
  
The Arkanian froze, staring at Mara disbelievingly. He looked her up and down, and not seeing anything threatening in the slender girl, continued down the ramp.   
  
“I said stop,” Mara repeated, taking her lightsaber in hand and igniting the pale yellow blade.  
  
“Out of my way _Jed_ i, the man sneered, stopping a foot away from her. “I have official business to attend to.”   
  
“You’ll have to attend to it without the food you’re stealing,” Mara replied firmly. ”I suggest you put it back where you found it.”  
  
“My people need this food!” the man spat, glaring at her menacingly.   
  
“They’ll have to wait just like everyone else,” she countered. “For the last time, put the box down and be on your way.”   
  
The man’s eyes narrowed into thin slits, his nostrils flared in anger.

 

“I don’t have time for this,” he hissed lunging forward and throwing the box at her.   
  
Mara reacted quickly, swinging her saber, cutting the box and the Arkanian in half.   
  
His blood curdling scream echoed throughout the entire landing bay before he fell to the ground, dead.   
  
Mara starred in horror at the mess before her as everyone in the landing bay came running. Shaak-Ti reached her first, gently taking the lightsaber from her hand and shutting it down.   
  
“Mara, what happened?”   
  
Mara continued to stare blankly ahead.   
  
“Mara.”

 

Noticing that the seventeen year-olds gaze was still focused on the deceased Arkanian, Shaak-Ti stepped directly in front of her, blocking the ramp from her view.

 

“Mara, look at me,” she commanded softly.   
  
Mara looked up into her Master’s compassionate gaze.   
  
“What happened?”   
  
“She’s a murderer!” the Arkanian assigned to their team shouted angrily, pointing to the man on the ramp. The rest of the Arkanians began to murmur heatedly amongst themselves, glaring hatefully at the Jedi. “The girl killed him unprovoked!”  
  
Shaak-Ti turned to face the crowd, her arm protectively around her padawan.

 

“We don’t know what happened yet,” she pointed out.   
  
“Look at the ramp,” the man shouted indignantly. “She killed Sibar Adrien, the head of the most prominent clan.”   
  
Mara began to shake at the news. She’d drawn her saber on missions before, but never had she been forced to take another life. Never had she seen death so close.

 

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” she said quietly.  
  
“Liar!” came the collective screams from the assembled crowd.

 

The Arkanians began to inch closer to Mara and Shaak-Ti. “You will be taken to the detention center at once. A life for a life, we demand.”   
  
Kit Fisto quickly moved to stand beside Shaak-Ti, Luke following behind him, both of them with their hands poised on the hilts of their lightsabers, prepared to defend themselves should the need arise.  
  
“No one is going anywhere,” he announced. “Not until we find out exactly what happened.”

 

He turned to Mara. “Mara?”   
  
Mara squared her shoulders. “He was stealing food…”   
  
“Arkanian’s don’t steal!”   
  
“Its our food!”   
  
“We don’t need _Jedi_ permission to take what’s ours!”   
  
“Quiet!” Fisto demanded. “Let her finish.”   
  
“I told him to stop,” Mara continued in an even voice. “Twice, I told him to stop. He wouldn’t. He threw the box at me and I…” she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat,”…protected myself.”   
  
“She killed a man for throwing a box!” the Arkanian proclaimed. “That’s _Jedi_ justice?”

 

While the yelling was going on between the Arkanians and Masters Shaak-Ti and Kit Fisto, Luke made his way to Mara’s side.  
  
“Mara,” Luke called softly as he took her smaller hand in his and squeezed tightly. “Are you okay?”   
  
Mara nodded slightly, biting her lower lip. Luke could see how unsettled she was and he wished he could make the whole situation easier for her.

 

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she declared in a strong voice a moment later.   
  
“We’ll let the Governor decide that,” the Arkanian pronounced. “You are under arrest.”   
  
Shaak-Ti stepped in front of Mara. “We’ll see about that. Mara is my padawan and I firmly stand by her actions.”   
  
“If that’s the way you want it,” the Arkanian sneered. “You’re both under arrest.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**  


/  
  
“You have no authority to arrest us,” Shaak-Ti pointed out, her voice holding a slightly incredulous air. “The Jedi have diplomatic immunity throughout the galaxy.”   
  
“You are guests on our planet,” the Arkanian replied through clenched teeth. “Therefore, you are subject to our laws.”   
  
“The laws of the Republic disagree with you,” sounded a stern voice from behind the crowd. “As do I.”  
  
“Wha…?” the Arkanian stuttered as he whirled around and came face to face a defiant and angry-looking Anakin Skywalker; Tristan by his side.

 

“More Jedi,” he spat. “Just what we need.”   
  
“Master Skywalker,” Fisto greeted as Anakin and Tristan moved to stand beside him. “We’ve got a bit of a situation.”

 

Anakin glanced quickly at the angry Arkanians, quickly assessing the situation. “Yes, it does seem that way, doesn’t it? However, as Master Shaak-Ti mentioned, there will be no arrests here today.”  
  
“Enough arguing,” the Arkanian declared.

 

“I say we lock up the lot of you Jedi and let the governor deal with you,” he spat at Anakin; brave considering Anakin was nearly a foot taller than the Arkanian.  
  
“And _I_ say you have no authority over us,” Anakin declared in a strong and unyielding voice as he took several menacing steps towards the shorter man.

 

“But…” the Arkanian tried to say, but was interrupted.

 

“If you’ll recall the instructions given by your _acting_ governor before he departed for his office, Master Yoda is in charge of the Jedi,” he paused, flicking a disgusted look at the Arkanian. “Not you.”   
  
The Arkanian clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing.

 

“Very well,” he hissed. “We’ll interrupt the governor and _Yoda_ but don’t think you can delay justice for long.”

 

He reached into his robe, angrily pulling out his comm as he stepped away to contact them.   
  
Anakin turned to face Kit Fisto. “Someone want to fill me in on what happened while we wait?”   
  
Shaak-Ti explained the situation, keeping her arm around Mara’s shoulders.

 

“I agree, Mara had no choice,” she added, squeezing her shoulders.   
  
Anakin sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “And he’s the head of a prominent clan?”   
  
“The most prominent clan,” Luke pointed out.   
  
“Great,” Anakin sighed as he scanned the landing port. “What was he doing taking supplies directly from the ship? Aren’t we supposed to be in charge of distributing them?”   
  
He exchanged puzzled glances with Fisto and Shaak-Ti. The six Jedi fell into an awkward silence.   
  
“Dad,” Luke whispered softly.

 

Anakin kept his eyes focused on the back of the Arkanian, not inclined to let the man out of his sight.

 

“Hmm?” he asked without turning to face his son.

 

“The Arkanian said they demand a life for a life,” he gulped. “Master Yoda won’t let them kill Mara, right?”   
  
Anakin smiled reassuringly, knowing that Luke saw it. “No. Master Yoda will straighten this out and we’ll all get back to work.”

 

/  
  
Yoda and the governor arrived a short time later, calling everyone to gather around the center of the landing port. They listened quietly as Mara explained what happened in an unrepentant tone.   
  
“I’m sorry for the outcome,” she concluded. “But I didn’t have a choice.”   
  
Governor Verbeke turned to Yoda. “Nor do we have a choice. Your Jedi has confessed. She must be arrested immediately.”   
  
Two Arkanian security guards stepped forward to take Mara into custody.   
  
“No,” Yoda replied, holding up a clawed hand. The security guard halted, gazing at Verbeke uncertainly.   
  
“Master Yoda, she has confessed…”   
  
“An unfortunate accident this was,” Yoda replied firmly.   
  
“Accident?” Verbeke gasped. “She did not have to kill…”   
  
“If obeyed a direct order Sibar Adrien had, alive he would still be,” Yoda pronounced, taping his gimer stick. “If explained to us his actions, allowed he would have been to take whatever he needed.”   
  
“We only asked for your help,” Verbeke scoffed. “Not your interference.”   
  
“An unfortunate accident this was,” Yoda repeated, frowning. “Necessary punishment is not.”   
  
“I’m sorry Master Yoda,” Verbeke replied stiffly. “As much as I respect you personally, your Jedi killed a man and accident or not she must be punished.”   
  
Shaak-Ti stepped forward next to Mara and rested a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Master Yoda, Governor Verbeke, may I speak?”   
  
Verbeke gapped at her in shock while Yoda nodded his approval.   
  
“Mara is my padawan and my responsibility,” she began. “After reviewing her actions, I agree she did nothing wrong.”   
  
“I am sorry for your loss,” she continued, raising her voice above the rising voices of the Arkanians. “Since I am the one in charge, I will share in whatever punishment you deem necessary.”   
  
“You want to be executed as well?” Verbeke exclaimed.   
  
“Executed!” Luke shouted as he stepped forward. “You can’t execute them for something that was an accident!”

 

Anakin grabbed Luke’s arm, pulling him back to his side. Luke struggled against the hold a bit, wanting to move protectively next to Mara, but Anakin’s grip was firm.

 

“Let Master Yoda handle it,” he whispered.   
  
“No executions will there be,” Yoda replied angrily.   
  
“There must be justice,” Verbeke countered.   
  
“Justice for an accident there is not,” Yoda stated firmly. “But if punishment you require, restrict Master Shaak-Ti and Padawan Mara Jade to our ship I will.”   
  
“Hmm…” Verbeke stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Who will guard the ship to make sure they do not leave it?”   
  
“One Jedi and one Arkanian,” Yoda announced. ”Acceptable, that is?”  
  
“Very well,” Verbeke agreed. “But if they try to leave the ship…”   
  
“Obey our decision they will,” Yoda assured him. “Accept it will your people?”   
  
“They will do as I order,” he answered firmly.   
  
/  
  
Yoda escorted the six Jedi to their waiting ship. “Leave the ship you must not.”    
  
“Yes Master,” they replied simultaneously.   
  
“Stand guard with the Arkanian, Tristan will,” he continued.   
  
“What?” Tristan exclaimed in horror. “Master Yoda, I’ve already got an assignment.”   
  
“Handle security by himself Master Skywalker can,” Yoda replied.   
  
“What if there’s more trouble?” Tristan argued. “I shouldn’t have to waste my time babysitting…”   
  
“Tristan,” Anakin warned, placing an arm on his shoulder.

 

“Master Yoda,” he dropped to one knee, meeting Yoda’s stare. “I have to agree with my padawan. He would be better served helping me on the streets of the capital. If Master Shaak-Ti gives her word she and Mara will stay on the ship, we can trust they will.”   
  
“Agree with you I do,” Yoda sighed. “But placate the Arkanians I must. A job to do we still have.”   
  
“I’ll stand guard,” Luke suddenly volunteered.   
  
“Needed you are to distribute the supplies,” Yoda replied, shaking his head. “More dangerous are the clans outside the capital.”   
  
“Tristan can take my place,” Luke continued. “He’s got more experience than me anyway and…”  
  
Anakin turned to face his son in shock. Luke was willing to give up his long awaited adventure? _He must really like Mara_.  
  
“No,” Yoda declared. “Assigned you were to Master Fisto. Continue your assignment you will.”   
  
“But Master!” Luke and Tristan cried at the same time. Neither young man was happy with the way events were unfolding. Luke wanted to be there for Mara and Tristan resented being pulled off his duty to attend to what he saw as a task that was far beneath him.

 

“Master Yoda, please…” Tristan began, only to be cut off.  
  
“Argue I will not,” Yoda snapped, tapping his gimer stick forcefully. “Final my decision is.”

 

The small Jedi walked off, leaving Anakin, Tristan, Luke, Shaak-Ti, Mara and an Arkanian guard stunned.

 

“Wonderful,” Tristan muttered.

 

Mara smirked. “If it’s any consolation, Kenobi, I find the idea of being guarded by you as unpleasant an experience as you seem to find guarding me.”

 

Tristan only glared at Mara.

 

Anakin was still nervous. He cleared his throat and motioned Tristan towards him as Kit and Luke headed back to their assigned duties.

 

Once they were out of earshot, Tristan looked at his mentor. “Yes, Master?”

 

“I don’t trust these…people,” he said softly. “I want you to keep a close eye on that guard you’re going to be with. Keep your comlink handy. I want you to contact me the moment you sense something wrong.”

 

Tristan nodded. “Yes, Master.”

 

“Keep your senses alert,” Anakin then instructed. “Something isn’t right here.”

 

“I will, Master,” Tristan promised.

 

Anakin smiled at his student. “May the Force be with you.”

 

Tristan nodded. “May the Force be with you, Master.”

 

Anakin walked away then, headed back to his security duties while Tristan took up his post next to the Arkanian guard outside the ship where Mara and Shaak-Ti were now being held.

 

The guard was so uninterested he didn’t notice the scowl on Tristan’s face, or the heated, angry gaze of Tristan’s blue/gray eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 

/

 

Anakin waited quietly in the shadows while Yoda finished conferring with Governor Verbeke. He kept himself as hidden as possible and kept his eyes alert, searching for any trouble that might come along.  
  
“Master, may I have a word?” he asked softly as he carefully approached Yoda and Verbeke after they’d stopped speaking.  
  
Yoda turned to Verbeke. “Join you in a moment I will.”

 

He led Anakin a few meters away to a semi-private area of the landing dock.    
  
“Unhappy with my decision you are?” Yoda asked, leaning on his gimer stick and gazing at Anakin with a knowing expression.   
  
Anakin sighed, lowering to one knee, wanting to be face to face with Yoda.

 

“I don’t think Mara or Shaak-Ti should be confined to the ship, Master,” he admitted boldly.   
  
“A better solution you have?”   
  
“They should have been allowed to continue their work,” Anakin replied. “We all agreed that Mara did nothing wrong and it’s pointless to have her, Shaak-Ti and my Padawan wasting their time instead of helping the Arkanians like we were asked.”   
  
“Agree with us the Arkanians did not,” Yoda reminded him sternly.   
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Anakin flared. “We’re Jedi. They should accept our decision without question.”   
  
Yoda’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. Though Anakin was much bigger than Yoda in physical stature, he felt quite a bit smaller when the old Jedi glared at him.   
  
“Or yours at least,” Anakin shrugged.   
  
Yoda sighed heavily. How he wished it were that simple. Things would be much simpler.

 

“If refused any punishment I had…” he began,”…how would the Arkanians have reacted do you think?”   
  
Anakin thought silently for a few moments. He couldn’t deny the fury of the Arkanians; he’d seen it first-hand. What would the reaction have been if Yoda insisted on no punishment?

 

Closing his eyes, he reached into the Force searching for an answer. The Force heeded the call of its Chosen One. He watched without reacting as an image began to form behind his closed lids.

 

/  
  
_Shouting...pushing…blows being exchanged as the Arkanians reached for their weapons and the Jedi for their lightsabers._

_Anakin and Tristan raised their sabers together, blocking blaster fire._

_Luke and Kit danced their way through the attacking Arkanians, cutting them down as they sought to destroy their Jedi helpers._

_The battle was fierce, but did not last long. The Arkanians were outmatched by the Jedi. The last of the Arkanians was cut down by Anakin himself, his body cleaved neatly in half._

_When the smoke cleared, Anakin looked around the landing dock littered with bodies, his gaze finally settling on the body of his gravely injured son._

 

/  
  
Anakin opened his eyes slowly, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his vision and its meaning.

 

“Luke,” he breathed.

 

“There’s something more going on here, Master,” he whispered, his gaze lingering on a group of Arkanians standing nearby. “I _feel_ it.”   
  
“As do I,” Yoda nodded somberly. “But tell what it is, I cannot. Be prepared for anything we must.”   
  
Anakin nodded, rising. “May the Force be with you, Master.”   
  
“And with you, youngling.”   
  
/   
  
After making sure Kit Fisto’s attention was safely diverted, Luke slipped away from the supplies he’d just inventoried. He headed back towards the Jedi’s ship as nonchalantly as possible, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention.   
  
“Tristan,” he said softly, eyeing the Arkanian standing guard on the opposite side of the ramp cautiously. “Do you mind if I go aboard for a few minutes?”   
  
“No one enters and no one leaves,” the Arkanian guard barked.   
  
“Was somebody talking to you?” Tristan hissed, glaring at the guard.   
  
“I just need a minute,” Luke interrupted. “That’s all, I promise.”  
  
Tristan turned to face Luke. “Why? Is something wrong?”   
  
Luke flushed, shuffling from foot to foot. _Why did he have to ask that?_ Luke thought.

 

“No…um…I just want to see…talk to Mara,” he stammered.   
  
Tristan studied him silently for a moment. Luke was blushing ferociously and his eyes darting across the landing dock. _The boy has it bad,_ Tristan thought.

 

“I’m sure she’s all right,” he whispered, leaning close to Luke so the Arkanian guard couldn’t hear.   
  
“I...I...know,” Luke gulped. “I just want to see her for a minute. She might be upset or something.”

 

His blue eyes bored into Tristan’s amused blue/gray ones, pleading silently.   
  
“Okay,” Tristan chuckled, shaking his head. “But only for a minute. I’ll be in huge trouble if anyone finds out that I let you go inside.”   
  
Luke started up the ramp, only to be stopped by the gruff hand of the Arkanian guard grabbing his arm in a tight grip.  
  
“Orders are no one on and no one off,” he sneered.   
  
Tristan knocked the Arkanian’s hand off Luke’s, grabbing him by the collar of his robe. He thrust him against the hull of the ship, his back hitting hard.

 

“The orders were, the two Jedi onboard don’t leave,” he reminded the guard through clenched teeth. “The rest of us can come and go as we please.”   
  
“Suit yourself,” the Arkanian sniffed, pulling himself from Tristan’s grasp.

 

He straightened his clothing and looked over at Luke. “But you’d better be careful, boy. She might just kill you as well.”   
  
/   
  
Luke entered the holding area where Shaak-Ti was meditating. Softening his steps, he quickly rushed past her into the sitting area outside the women’s quarters where Mara was furiously pacing.   
  
“Hi,” he whispered stepping into her view.   
  
Mara stopped abruptly.

 

“Skywalker?” her brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”   
  
“I just wanted to see if…well, if you were okay,” Luke replied, suddenly feeling foolish. Mara clearly didn’t need any consoling.   
  
“I’m fine,” she snapped, resuming her pacing. “For someone who didn’t do anything wrong but is being punished anyway that is.”   
  
“Is...uh…can…I…uh,” Luke’s words trailed off at the fury in her eyes.   
  
“The Arkanian was clearly in the wrong,” she continued, not hearing him. “I can’t believe Master Yoda would agree to lock Master Shaak-Ti and me up like we’re the criminals. You’d think that old bantha would have at least tried to reason with the Arkanians before agreeing to their…”

 

She stopped suddenly, noticing Luke’s compassionate gaze for the first time.

 

 _He came to comfort me,_ she realized with a jolt.   
  
Luke looked away, shyly.   
  
Mara smiled, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tightly. ”How did you manage to get in here?”

 

Luke smiled as he sat down on one of the sleep couches. “I made Tristan let me come inside. The Arkanian guard tried to stop me but Tris…well, that doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

 

Mara, still holding his hand, sat next to him. “Kenobi probably threatened him.”

 

Luke laughed softly. He knew Tristan had a temper and it wouldn’t have surprised him if that’s exactly what had happened.

 

“So, are you okay?” Luke asked gently.

 

Mara looked over at him, but didn’t speak immediately. She studied his face. She’d noticed that he was becoming quite handsome, but she’d never really studied his features before. His face was already losing the soft dimensions of childhood. He had a strong jaw and high cheekbones; full lips and the most adorable cleft in his chin.

 

Before she knew what she was doing, Mara reached out and ran her thumb over the cleft.

 

Luke’s was in shock. She’d never touched him before; not like this.

 

Clearing his throat, Luke again spoke. “Mara?”

 

Shaking her head and dropping her hand as if she’d been burned, Mara nodded. “I’m fine, Skywalker. I’m angry, but otherwise fine.”

 

Satisfied, Luke stood. “I should be going. I don’t want Tristan to get into trouble.”

 

He headed for the door but was stopped by her voice.

 

“Luke?”

 

He turned around. “Yes?”

 

Mara stood and walked over to him. She stood in front of him and surprised them both by taking his hands in her and leaning forward. Her lips grazed his in a feather-light kiss before she pulled back.

 

“Thanks for coming to check on me, Skywalker,” she said softly as she released his hands.

 

Luke smiled even as he blushed. “You’re welcome.”

 

Then he turned and practically ran from the ship.

 

/

 

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Tristan called out as Luke barreled past him down the ramp.

 

Luke turned and grinned, but said nothing as he went back to his work.

 

“Odd,” Tristan said to himself.

 

“Humph,” the Arkanian guard grumbled next to him.

 

The two shared a glare as they continued their assigned task.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**  


/  
  
Luke yawned, fighting off his fatigue as the convoy arrived at yet another settlement. He had lost count of how many settlements they had visited in the last two days. They all resembled each other, thought the number of huts and citizens varied. The reception to their arrival had remained the same, though; cool detachment.  
  
Luke was amazed at how little appreciation the Arkanians showed. They were after all, delivering lifesaving supplies and most of the settlements were unaware of what had happened at the landing dock. Luke thought they’d have been more warmly received.  
  
Sliding from the saddle of his dewback, he quickly moved to the rear of the convoy and began helping the accompanying Arkanians unload the supplies while Kit Fisto went to greet the approaching representatives of the settlement.   
  
“Greetings,” Kit spoke as he smiled at the group of Arkanians, bowing respectfully. “My name is Kit Fisto and I have come…”   
  
“To bring us food and medicine,” the tallest of the group interrupted. “We know. Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, Master Jedi, and get these supplies delivered. My people are dying, you know, and we’d all like for you to be on your way as soon as possible.”

 

He turned towards the settlement and with a wave of his hand, a half dozen young males advanced towards the convoy.   
  
“Of course,” Kit managed. He bit back his shock at the Arkanian’s abruptness. “If you’ll follow me…”   
  
“Excuse me, Jedi,” a petite young female called out as she stepped forward.   
  
Kit turned to her in surprise. “Yes?”  
  
“I am Rika Adrien. I believe you met my husband two days ago.”   
  
Kit froze at her announcement, knowing instinctively who her husband must have been. Glancing at the retreating group of Arkanians, he stepped forward hoping to keep anyone who hadn’t heard of the incident from learning of it.   
  
“Yes,” he gazed at her compassionately. “I, and the rest of the Jedi, am very sorry for what happened. It was an unfortunate…”   
  
“Accident,” she finished with a huff. “So we’ve been told.”   
  
Kit opened his mouth to reply, but she held up a hand to stop him.   
  
“While I do not agree with Governor Verbeke’s decision to not punish the person responsible, I have accepted that decision,” she stated calmly. I am only here to collect the supplies for my settlement.”   
  
“Wha…what was that?” Kit didn’t bother to hide his surprise.   
  
“My settlement is fifty kilometers to the South, through the mountains and difficult to find unless you know where to look,” she explained. “The trip is quite treacherous and not recommended for non-natives and since it was to be your last stop, you don’t have to be concerned with me taking more than the settlement has been allotted.”   
  
“I assure you we are capable of making the trip,” Kit replied. “It won’t take long to finish up here…”   
  
“And I assure _you_ it would be better for your sake to allow me to collect our supplies,” Rika sniffed. “My people may be in dire straits but they are still quite capable of expressing their extreme displeasure over what happened if any Jedi show up.”   
  
Kit studied her closely. Rika’s face was etched with worry lines, her eyes devoid of any emotion. Her voice and demeanor were sincere but he could feel deception hanging heavily in the air. Something was not right. She met his gaze without flinching.   
  
“Well?” she finally said breaking the silence.   
  
“You may take the last of the supplies,” he acquiesced. “My fellow Jedi and I will head back to the Capital once we have dispersed the supplies here.”   
  
/

 

Anakin surveyed the crowds waiting their turn in the voting spheres carefully. The air was dripping with tense anticipation. His every nerve had been on alert for any sign of trouble for three days now but everything seemed to be going smoothly.   
  
To his relief, Leia and Barriss Offee completed handing out supplies to the citizens of the capital without incident. They returned to the ship stunned to learn of the events leading to confinement of Mara and Shaak-Ti. Leia had been so upset; she offered to stay aboard the ship to keep Mara company.   
  
Anakin and Barriss quickly agreed. While Anakin wanted all the help with security he could get for the voting, he and Barriss both knew Leia wasn’t prepared for any unexpected danger. He knew she could handle her lightsaber well enough to survive a battle, but he was more than happy to have her in a position where that wouldn’t be required.  
  
Luke and Kit Fisto had arrived back at the landing dock earlier than expected with news of Rika Adrien’s insistent demand for them not to travel to her settlement. Even considering her husband’s death, that was an alarming development. There was more to her insistence, Anakin was sure of that.  
  
Luke had immediately requested permission to stay on the ship, to keep out of trouble, he’d mumbled; not fooling anyone. After a brief conference with Kit and Barriss, Anakin agreed to allow Luke to remain on the ship. They all sensed something…elusive and knew it would be better for Luke to remain out of harm’s way. Anakin was just relieved Luke’s infatuation with Mara kept him from sensing that his long desired adventure could have been at hand.   
  
He sighed, releasing his fatigue and anxiety into the Force. He was able to convince Yoda and Governor Verbeke to allow Tristan to resume his place by Anakin’s side. They all agreed the Arkanian guard could remain on duty by himself. With a Jedi Master and three Padawans on board the ship, there was little danger of anything happening.

 

Tristan, like Anakin, had shed his cloak as they walked about the crowd. Anakin felt it prudent that they not be hampered by anything should they need to defend themselves.

 

“This is quite boring, Master,” Tristan quipped.

 

Anakin smiled. “Just the way we want it, Padawan. In a situation like this, boring is the best we can hope for.”

 

“I bet you wished for something more exciting when you were my age,” the younger man said.

 

Anakin shook his head. “When I was your age, I was fighting alongside your father during the Clone Wars. Nothing about that time was exciting. I wished for the normalcy and relative calm of doing something as simple as this.”

 

Tristan didn’t comment, just went back to combing the crowd with his eyes, watching for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary.

 

“Let’s separate,” Anakin said moments later. “You take that area over there, and I’ll patrol this way.”

 

Tristan nodded. “Yes, Master.”

 

He headed in the direction Anakin had pointed and continued watching the crowd.

 

/  
  
The hours passed slowly. The Arkanians cast their votes and gathered in the credenza outside the governor’s office to wait for the results. The crowds kept themselves entertained with singing, games and an occasional shouting match that didn’t last very long when a Jedi or local security would show their faces.  
  
Anakin followed the last voters to the credenza, joining Kit, Barriss and Tristan on the outskirts of the crowds as the acting Governor, his security and Yoda stepped onto the balcony.   
  
Verbeke called for silence before announcing his formal election as Governor. The crowds cheered wildly. Verbeke observed the celebration quietly, a joyous smile on his face. When everyone had quieted down again, he raised his hands, preparing to speak.   
  
“Despite the tragedy in the landing dock a few days ago,” he began, looking down at Yoda. “I would like to thank Jedi Master Yoda for his willingness to come to our planet and help deliver the necessary supplies.”   
  
The crowd applauded politely. Anakin rested his hand on his lightsaber. The intense feeling of wrongness he’d had since they arrived continued to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  
  
“I ask you all to join me as I escort Master Yoda and his fellow Jedi back to the landing dock so we may give them a proper Arkanian farewell.”   
  
Anakin exchanged startled glances with Kit, Barriss and Tristan as the crowd turned to face them. The waited awkwardly as Verbeke and Yoda made their way towards them, the crowds parting in cooperation.   
  
No one spoke as Verbeke lead the procession to the lone ship remaining in the landing dock. Verbeke halted at the ramp, quickly dismissing the Arkanian guard before turning to Yoda.   
  
“Master Yoda,” he bowed slightly. “On behalf of my people, thank you for your assistance.”

 

He turned to nod at Anakin, Kit, Barriss and Tristan. “Goodbye.”   
  
Anakin bit his tongue as his temper flared. After everything the Jedi had done, this was the extent of Verbeke’s gratitude? They were practically being thrown off the planet!

 

”Good riddance,” Anakin muttered under his breath.  
  
“Welcome you are,” Yoda replied evenly, ignoring Anakin’s words that only he had heard. “In peace we go.”

 

Anakin watched in amusement and Yoda proceeded to take his time hobbling up the ramp. Never had he seen the diminutive Master not give a customary bow when greeting or saying goodbye.   
  
Anakin didn’t bother to hide his smile as he followed Kit, Barriss and Tristan onto the ship, all ignoring Verbeke.   
  
Everyone gathered in the holding area, sitting quietly as the ship lifted off without incident.   
  
“Master,” Anakin called as he moved next to Yoda. “Something more was going on down there.”

 

He frowned, glancing at his fellow Jedi. “We all felt it. Their rude dismissal of us only adds to the feeling.”   
  
“Agree with you I do,” Yoda nodded, running his clawed hand through his thinning hair. “Tense the entire time the Arkanians were. Keep an eye on this planet we must.”   
  
/  
  
Kodai Verbeke entered his office, releasing a sigh of exhaustion. Finally he was rid of those pesky Jedi. He reached under his desk, pushing a hidden button, sitting back in his chair to wait.   
  
A moment later, a holograph of a cloaked face appeared before him.   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“Everything went exactly as planned and the Jedi have left,” Verbeke announced triumphantly.   
  
“Excellent,” a calm voice congratulated. “And the factory?”   
  
“Remains undiscovered,” Verbeke answered. “Now that I have the means to get the employees healthy enough to resume work, we will be back on schedule within a month.”

 

He swallowed nervously, hoping his answer would be satisfactory.   
  
“You’ve done well,” the voice replied, clearly pleased. “If you continue to do so, you will be rewarded.”   
  
“Thank you,” Verbeke breathed in relief as the image faded.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

 

/

 

Several weeks had passed since the unsettling events on Arkania and the entire Skywalker family, plus a few additions, made the trip to Naboo for the annual Freedom Festival. The celebrations were scheduled to last an entire week, culminating with a parade to honor the Heroes of Naboo; Anakin, Padme, and of course, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

 

Tristan walked alone through the empty halls of the Theed Royal Palace. Large windows allowed him spectacular views of the city of Theed and the surrounding landscape. All in all, he thought the planet quite beautiful.

 

When he reached a room that held a granite nameplate entitled _Remembrance_ , he hesitated before entering, somehow knowing what he’d find within.

 

There, on display for all to see was a life-size marble statue of his father, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Tears gathered in Tristan’s eyes as he moved closer and reached out to touch the face of the man that had sired him.

 

“Are you alright, Padawan?” Anakin questioned in a deep voice from behind the young man.

 

Tristan shook his head as he turned. “No, Master. I just…what are you doing here? I thought you were touring some museum.”

 

Anakin moved and rested a hand on Tristan’s shoulders. “I got bored. We’ve never discussed what happened to your father and Master Qui-Gon here before, have we?”

 

“No, Master,” he answered softly. “I know about Tatooine and you blowing up the Droid Control Ship, but nothing else.”

 

Anakin nodded. “Come on then. Let’s take a walk. I’ll tell you how your father became known as the Sith Killer.”

 

Together, they walked out of the room, Anakin already beginning his tale.

 

/

 

**Theed Royal Palace Hangar Bay**

 

/

 

Thirteen year-old Jedi Padawan Arik Skywalker could barely contain himself.

 

“Are we there yet, Master?” he questioned anxiously as they rode together in the back of a speeder.

 

Garen Muln glanced at his young apprentice and smiled. The look of anticipation on the young man’s face was comical. His ice-blue eyes were bright with excitement. His dark, spiky hair was mussed from his habit of constantly running his fingers through it when he was excited and his padawan braid had somehow managed to get twisted into a knot.

 

Garen reached over and untangled it just as the speeder came to a stop. “Yes, we’re there now, Padawan.”

 

Arik was out of his seat quickly, calling for Garen to hurry up. He tipped their pilot a few credits and came up to his apprentice just as their tour guide walked up.

 

“You two here for the tour?”

 

Garen nodded. “Yes, I’m Jedi Master Garen Muln and this is my apprentice, Arik.”

 

The man nodded. “Come along. I’m Colonel Kiran Voth, commander of the Royal Security Forces, Starfighter Corps.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Sir,” Arik spoke up.

 

“Follow me,” the man instructed.

 

Arik and Garen did as they were told and quietly followed the man as he led them on a private tour through the hanger bay housing the newest starfighters.   
  
Garen watched with amusement as Arik absorbed every detail of each craft the Colonel took them past. There was no doubt in his mind Arik’s love of ships surpassed that of his father’s, something he never would have thought possible.   
  
“I’m going to build my own ship one day,” Arik had boasted a few days ago after offering to fly the ship to Naboo and quite emphatically being turned down. “Then nobody will be able to tell me I can’t fly.”

 

He’d pouted for about an hour after takeoff before Garen could coax him into a game of holo chess.   
  
“These are our new two-seat fighters,” Col. Voth said, pointing to four ships in the rear of the hanger. “They’re fresh off the assembly line. In fact…” he paused dramatically,”…they’ve yet to be flown.”   
  
“Wizard!” Arik swiftly climbed up the steps, peering into the cockpit, his bright blue eyes scrutinizing every detail.   
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so young with such enthusiasm,” the Colonel marveled.   
  
“It’s in his blood,” Garen explained with a laugh. “His father is the best pilot in the galaxy.”   
  
“Really?” the older man drawled, one eyebrow arched. “I’ll wager that the best pilots are right here on Naboo and I don’t recall seeing that young one around with any of them. Who’s his father?”   
  
“Anakin Skywalker,” Garen replied dryly. “He’s…”   
  
“Anakin Skywalker!” Colonel Voth exclaimed, his mouth dropping open with shock. “Little Anakin? The one who destroyed the Trade Federation’s flagship?”   
  
“Well, he’s not so little anymore,” Garen laughed. “But, yes, one and the same. Arik is his youngest son.”   
  
“I can hardly believe it,” Voth gushed. “Ana…ah…um, Master Skywalker is a legend among the Naboo. Is he here as well?”

 

Colonel Voth turned, searching the hanger.   
  
“I believe he’s touring the historical museum at the moment,” Garen answered, thankful Anakin wasn’t there. He knew Anakin appreciated the genuine affection and gratitude the Naboo had for him, but he was extremely uncomfortable being held in such high esteem.   
  
“Oh,” his shoulders slumped in disappointment.

 

“I know,” he turned to Arik. “Arik, how would you like to be the first to fly one of these new ships?”   
  
“Really!” Arik’s head snapped up immediately.   
  
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Colonel,” Garen began.   
  
“I assure you it’s not a problem,” the Colonel replied as Arik jumped to the floor.   
  
“Master, can I?” he pleaded. “Dad lets me fly his speeder around Coruscant all the time and I promise I’ll be careful.”   
  
“I don’t know,” Garen replied doubtfully. “A fighter ship is much different than a speeder and as I recall, your father has to be with you when you fly his speeder.”   
  
“It’s not that much different,” the Colonel interjected, ignoring Garen’s glare and clamping his arm around Arik’s shoulders. “Now just climb inside and I’ll show you how to…,”   
  
“Wait a minute,” Garen interrupted. “I didn’t say he could fly. He’s only thirteen years old and…”   
  
“He’s a Skywalker,” Colonel Voth reminded him with an annoyed glance, as if that explained everything. “Besides, this ship isn’t that much different than the ship his father flew when he was ten.”

 

He turned back to Arik, helping him into the cockpit.   
  
“He can’t fly that thing alone,” Garen insisted, tugging the Colonel’s arm.   
  
“If you’re that worried, you can go with him,” the Colonel sniffed. “In the gunner’s seat.”

 

”Come on, Master,” Arik whined. “Please.”

 

Voth stepped down and gestured for Garen to climb into the ship behind Arik.   
  
“This really isn’t necessary,” Garen said, trying one last time to change the Colonel’s mind. “Arik will be just fine sitting in the cockpit for a few moments.”   
  
“Nonsense,” the Colonel responded. “Let the boy have a little adventure. I’m sure his father would appreciate it.”   
  
_Great,_ Garen groaned silently, heading into the gunner’s seat. _Several hundred officers in the Starfighter Corps and I get Anakin’s biggest fan._  
  
“We’re just going to fly around for a minute,” he told Arik as he strapped himself in. “And then we’re coming straight back.”   
  
“Thanks Master!” Arik beamed as he started the engine.   
  
Garen took a deep breath, using the Force to calm his rising anxiety as Arik guided the ship towards the open hangar doors.   
  
”Force help me,” he whispered softly, clutching the straps of his restraints as the ship lifted off, flying smoothly over the lush meadows and streams below.   
  
Arik gripped the steering bars, exhilaration flowing throughout his entire body. He’d never felt as alive, as free as he did in that moment.   
  
“Minute’s up,” Garen announced forcing his fingers to relinquish their tight grip. “Time to head back now.”   
  
“Awww, Master, couldn’t we just…”   
  
“Next time,” Garen interrupted. _Like in a few more years,_ he added silently to himself.   
  
Arik’s shoulders slumped as he turned the ship around. He never got to have any fun. His heart skipped a beat as he suddenly remembered a maneuver his father performed during his own trip over Naboo.   
  
_I should have just enough time,_ he thought, wrenching the controls to the left.   
  
“Arik!”   
  
Arik barely heard his Master’s scream as he twisted the steering bars to the left and right spinning the ship into a series of flips at lightning speed.   
  
“Yippee!”   
  
“Arik Skywalker!”   
  
Arik’s eyes widened as he realized how close they were to the hangar bay.

 

“Uh oh,” he mumbled, scrambling to slow down. The ship’s engine sputtered with his efforts as he shakily got it back under control.   
  
Garen unclenched his teeth as the ship touched down with a bone jarring thud.   
  
“See Master, we made it!” Arik turned to smile at him as he released the hood.   
  
Garen was silent as he shakily climbed down from the ship, exchanging an _I told you so_ look with the somewhat stunned Colonel Voth.   
  
“That…that…was…something,” Voth muttered as Arik joined them.   
  
“Can I fly us back to Coruscant, Master?” Arik asked oblivious to Garen’s shaken demeanor.   
  
“I don’t think so,” he replied.   
  
“But…but I can handle it,” Arik argued, his lower lip beginning to protrude. “I just flew a starfighter and it’s still in one piece.”   
  
No sooner were the words out of his mouth, when the landing supports beneath the ship collapsed, sending the new spacecraft crashing to the unforgiving ground beneath.   
  
“Mostly,” Arik corrected, hanging his head.   
  
“Padawan,” Garen squeezed his shoulder. “I want you to put your mechanical skills to use and help the Colonel and his men repair this ship, no matter how long it takes.”   
  
“But I was going to go to the festivities that begin tonight!”   
  
“You can have fun after you’ve fixed the mess you made,” Garen insisted.   
  
“Awe…”   
  
“I’ll meet you back at your parent’s villa,” Garen said turning to walk away.   
  
“Where are you going, Master?” Arik asked.   
  
“For a drink,” Garen explained without stopping, the sound of Obi-Wan’s laughter echoing in his ears.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

 

/

 

Leia’s dark eyes were drawn to the exquisite artistry of the palace. The walls were adorned with paintings from all over the galaxy and intricate carvings that told the story of Naboo’s rich history.

 

“I never get tired of coming here, Mother,” Leia commented as the pair walked through the halls. “It’s simply beautiful.”

 

Padme nodded. “Yes, it is. It’s quite nice that you’re at an age now where you can appreciate the beauty of your homeworld.”

 

Leia chuckled as she followed Padme into the throne room, eyes wide with wonderment.   
  
The newly elected Queen Haera rose from her throne, dismissing her security team with a wave of her hand.   
  
“Padme,” she smiled warmly. “It is wonderful to see you again.”

 

The two women embraced. They had been friends for quite some time. Haera was a good ten years Padme’s junior, but Padme’s willingness to share her experiences as Queen of Naboo gave them common ground on which to build their friendship.  
  
“This is my daughter, Leia,” Padme introduced, placing her arm around Leia’s shoulders.   
  
Haera blinked in disbelief.

 

“Surly this must be another decoy,” she teased, taking Leia’s hands into her own. “She looks just like you.”   
  
Leia flushed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”   
  
“I see you’ve inherited your mother’s diplomacy,” Haera laughed. “There is no need for such formalities between friends. Please, call me Haera.”

 

She turned to Padme. “Have you been to the Remembrance Room? It was just finished recently.”   
  
Padme shook her head.

 

“We don’t get back home as often as we’d like,” she explained. “And we came straight here once we arrived at the palace.”   
  
“Then we shall go there first,” Haera announced. “The historical committee has created the most amazing holographs recreating the Trade Federation’s invasion and the fight for Naboo’s freedom that took place after the invasion.”

 

She turned to Leia, smiling as they headed from the throne room. “Has your mother told you how incredibly brave she was?”   
  
“Some,” Leia replied, somewhat surprised by Queen Haera’s question. Padme had explained the invasion and retaking of Theed, but she had always made it seem as if she had played a very minor role.   
  
She followed the Queen and Padme, listening with amusement as the two compared reigns. Once they reached the room called _Remembrance_ , the mood instantly sobered.    
  
“I may not have been a part of this historical time,” Haera began. “But walking through the holograms makes me feel as if I were right there, experiencing everything.”

 

She smiled solemnly at Padme whose eyes seemed to have taken on a very solemn look.

 

“I admire your heroics and your courage,” she said simply before leading them inside.   
  
Padme stepped inside and immediately froze, her hand covering her mouth and muting the gasp that she couldn’t hold back. There, a few inches in front of her stood a life size statue of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Tears quickly formed in her eyes and fell unchecked down her cheeks.   
  
“Mom?” Leia questioned, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder.   
  
“I...I’m all right, darling,” Padme whispered, wiping away her tears.   
  
“I’m so sorry,” Haera apologized, immediately coming to Padme’s side. “I thought you knew.”   
  
“I did,” Padme nodded, smiling sadly. “I was notified when the artists began working and when the statue was completed. It’s just seeing it…it’s been so long and I remember exactly how he looked when he and Master Jinn jumped from that balcony.”

 

She paused to take a deep breath. “Leia, you probably recognize Obi-Wan Kenobi. If you’re looking for a hero of the Trade Federation invasion of our planet, he was it; him, Master Jinn and your father.”  
  
“I recognize him from all of the holos that Dad has given Tristan.”

 

Leia studied the statue carefully. The details of the statue were remarkably life-like. It was almost as if Obi-Wan were actually standing before them.   
  
“Now, let’s take a look at those holographs,” Haera suggested.  
  
Leia stayed close to Padme’s side as the trio made their way around the entire room. The holographs covered the Trade Federation’s invasion, occupancy, the retaking Theed and the celebration afterwards.   
  
She was both impressed and horrified by her mother’s actions, especially considering Padme had been a year younger than Leia was now when everything happened.   
  
“You never told me you were in so much danger,” she said when they’d reached the end.   
  
“Well, I wasn’t the only one in danger,” Padme replied. “All of the Naboo suffered during the occupation and many gave their lives during the liberation.”

 

She gazed compassionately at her daughter. “I only inspired the resistance. All of us played a role in winning Naboo’s freedom.”   
  
“But I thought negotiation was always better than fighting,” Leia argued. “Why didn’t you just get the Trade Federation to agree to leave?”   
  
“We tried,” Padme explained. “We certainly gave diplomacy a chance to succeed, but ultimately it failed. The Trade Federation wouldn’t cooperate and now we know it was because Palpatine was pulling their strings.”   
  
There was a hushed silence at the mention of the former Chancellor.   
  
“Mom,” Leia swallowed nervously. “Do you still think negotiation can work?”   
  
Padme was silent for a few moments. She searched her heart for the answer, and it came rather easily, despite her past experiences.

 

“Yes,” she finally answered. “We should only take action when all other options have failed. Fighting should never be the first response. There are always other ways, if only we take the time to look for and implement them.  
  
“But there may be times when we have to fight,” Leia sighed, the idea of combat weighing heavily in her young heart and soul.   
  
Padme hugged her daughter to her. “Possibly. As much as I hope that neither you nor any of your brothers will ever have to, I know if you do, you will be just as strong and brave as I or your father, or Obi-Wan ever were.”   
  
/  
  
Anakin led Tristan across the cavernous catwalks of the power station, stopping at the front end of the service corridor.

 

“This is where the tide turned,” he began, explaining how Obi-Wan had been trapped at the last gate as Qui-Gon continued to battle the Sith.   
  
Tristan closed his eyes, envisioning the battle before him with Anakin’s voice giving him the story Obi-Wan had given Anakin himself so many years before. He could almost feel his father’s frustration and anxiety mounting as he was forced to wait and eventually watch his Master’s death.   
  
He was silent as Anakin guided him through each gate, stopping next at the melting pit where Darth Maul met his end. Tristan smiled triumphantly, imagining the exhilaration his father must have felt when he struck the killing blow. He quickly sobered when Anakin pointed to where Qui-Gon lay dying.   
  
“Obi-Wan managed to get to him right before he died,” Anakin whispered hoarsely. “They even had a chance to speak for a few seconds.”

 

He paused, pushing back the lingering memories of fear. He’d always wondered what would have happened to him had Qui-Gon died before making Obi-Wan promise to train him.   
  
“Master,” Tristan’s voice snapped him from his reverie. “Why don’t the Jedi honor my father for being the first Jedi in a thousand years to kill a Sith?”   
  
Anakin studied him silently for a moment. _What kind of a question was that?_ , Anakin wondered.   
  
“Your father was made a Knight and Master in the span of a few days,” he finally answered. “That was how the Jedi honored him.”   
  
Tristan frowned, his brows furrowed in thought.

 

“That’s not very much, considering everybody gets to be a Knight and Master…eventually,” he quickly added, noting Anakin’s disapproving look.   
  
“It’s the Jedi way,” Anakin replied clamping his arm around Tristan’s shoulders. “Besides, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have expected or accepted anything more. As it was, he got tired of his holograph always being shown on the HoloNet. He was famous, and he loathed every moment of it.”   
  
“It still seems like he should have gotten more,” Tristan sulked; a very unbecoming sight in a twenty year-old Jedi Padawan.   
  
“Like what?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Tristan shrugged, lowering his gaze to the floor.   
  
“Tris,” Anakin sighed heavily. “Let me tell you something about your father.”

 

He lifted Tristan’s head to meet his stare. “Obi-Wan was devoted to the Jedi; the Order itself and our way of life. He didn’t want or expect any accolades for doing what he considered to be nothing more or less than his duty.”   
  
“But shouldn’t there be some kind of reward?” Tristan argued.   
  
“Being granted the rank of Master is the greatest reward any Jedi can be given,” Anakin explained. “For those that are elevated to a seat on the High Council, which your father was, they consider themselves rewarded beyond their wildest dreams.”  
  
Tristan was silent for a few moments, pondering all that Anakin had said.

 

“Master,” he looked sheepishly at Anakin. “Were you ever…offered anything? You know…from the beings you helped?”   
  
“Of course,” Anakin laughed, understanding what his apprentice was getting at.

 

“Over the years we were offered money, food, and all sorts of artifacts and…” he paused to wink mischievously at Tristan, “…we even had a few parents offer their daughters for us to marry.”   
  
“Mom must have been thrilled to hear that,” Tristan quipped.   
  
“And Padme,” Anakin said and rolled his eyes dramatically. “The point is your father devoted his life to helping others. That’s the highest calling one can have in life and Obi-Wan got the greatest satisfaction just from doing his duty.”   
  
“I understand,” Tristan replied.

 

”Good,” Anakin said. “Now come, let’s go find Luke and Mara.”

 

Tristan followed him out of the power station, looking back only once. He wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe he saw a blue shimmering image of his father standing off in the distance. It was gone before he knew for sure, but he smiled anyway, believing that it had been his father.

 

/

 

**Bassa Bridge**

**Theed**

 

/

 

Luke was having a wonderful time showing Mara around Theed.

 

“Do you ever miss living here?” she asked as they walked slowly across Bassa Bridge, the Sollue River flowing beneath.

 

Luke leaned against the railing and shook his head. “Honestly, I can barely remember living here. I was only five when we left here and went back to Coruscant.”

 

Mara nodded as she stared out across the river. “What’s that out there?”

 

Luke turned and smiled. “That’s Broadberry Meadow, it’s a park. The only way to get to it is by boat. An old woman named Thessa runs a gondola service that goes out there.”

 

Mara didn’t have time to ask her next question. Both teens heard a voice call their names from below the bridge. They leaned over just in time to see Anakin, Padme, Leia, Arik, Garen and Tristan in two gondolas.

 

“We’re going out to Broadberry Meadow, jump down,” Anakin called to them.

 

Luke and Mara shared a smile as they climbed together onto the ledge. Mara grasped his hand suddenly. “Together. We jump together.”

 

Holding her hand tightly, Luke smiled. “Always.”

 

And together, they leapt from the bridge and landed softly, aided by the force, into the gondola.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

 

/

 

**Several Weeks Later**

**Jedi Temple**

**Coruscant**

 

/

 

Anakin rose from his chair, stretching his long legs and massaging the ache in his back, thankful the Council meeting had finally ended. Three hours of parent after parent presenting their complaints and requests for changes in their children’s training was definitely not what he envisioned when he voted for their involvement.   
  
He sighed wearily as he made his way to the door. Today the High Council had been able to placate the parents but he sensed things would only get more difficult as time went on.

 

”Are you alright?” Garen asked as he stood next to his friend. He could see the worry on Anakin's face and he could sense it through the Force.

 

Anakin nodded. “Yeah, I just…I never imagined that having parents involved with their children’s training might not be the best thing.”

 

Garen could understand that sentiment. As the years went by, more and more demands were made. Some parents had, in recent years, even taken their children from the Jedi after being told that their demands would not be met because they were not within the best interest of their child.

 

“Sometimes things just don’t work out, Anakin,” Garen offered. “For the most part, having parents involved has been quite successful. It’s only recently that we’ve had some trouble, and it’s been isolated to the parents of the younger students.”

 

Anakin nodded, trying to draw some comfort from Garen’s words. “I’ll see you later.”

 

Garen watched as Anakin headed out of the large circular room.

 

/   


Anakin hadn’t gotten too far when he noticed Yoda hobbling towards him.

 

“Skywalker,” Yoda greeted as the tall master approached.  
  
“Master Yoda,” Anakin nodded, slowing slightly.   
  
“A word with you I need,” Yoda continued, walking beside him.   
  
Anakin bit back a moan, hoping it wouldn’t take long. ”Concerning what, Master?”

 

But Yoda didn’t tell him. “Meet me in my quarters in ten minutes you and your padawan will.”   
  
Anakin stopped dead in his tracks, slack jawed.

 

“You...you want to meet away from the Council?” he asked, clearly perplexed.   
  
“Arisen, a serious matter has,” Yoda replied with a nod. “To investigate further I need, before bringing it to the rest of the Council’s attention.”   
  
Anakin frowned. “Isn’t the Council supposed to…”   
  
“No,” Yoda interrupted firmly, taping his gimer stick.   
  
Anakin opened his mouth to protest, stopping when Yoda held up a clawed hand.   
  
“Explain more I will when meet we do.”   
  
“Yes, Master.”

 

Anakin watched in bewilderment as Yoda hobbled from the room, his thoughts heading in only one direction. _I have a bad feeling about this._  
  
/  
  
Anakin and Tristan settled as comfortably as they could on the small rounded cushions in Yoda’s quarters.   
  
Yoda waited silently, a blank expression on his face until both men had gotten settled and looked to him.  
  
“Received a message from Dathomir I have,” Yoda announced.   
  
“Dathomir?” Anakin repeated; brows burrowed together in concern. He knew the basics of the primitive planet and the witches who inhabited it and could think of no reason why anyone would want to contact the Jedi. “From who and why?”   
  
“Best it would be if see the message yourself,” Yoda replied.   
  
Turning to the table beside his cushion, he activated a small holo-projector. Instantly, a hologram of a middle aged woman appeared. Standing ten centimeters tall, the woman had long raven hair with streaks of gray scattered throughout and wore a simple tunic with a hide robe.   
  
“Greetings, Master Yoda,” she began, bowing slightly. “I am Mother Tuija, leader of the Singing Mountain Clan. I have been selected to represent the nine clans of Nightsisters on Dathomir to bring our petition before you,” she paused, gazing straight ahead silently.   
  
Anakin studied the woman closely. It was hard to get any real sense of someone when they were no more than a hologram, but he tried anyway, reaching out with the Force. He searched for…anything, but came away only with the feeling that something seemed out of place, and very wrong.   
  
“The nine clans have collectively decided we have been wasting our gifts on just our clans and would like to expose ourselves to other beings throughout the Galaxy, offering assistance and comfort where we can. Therefore, we humbly request training from the Jedi Order for our children.”   
  
Anakin gasped, turning in shock to Yoda. He simply couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

 

“They want to be Jedi!” he exclaimed.   
  
Yoda didn’t answer, his eyes remaining fixed on the hologram.   
  
“We do not seek a place in the Jedi Order,” Tuija continued serenely. “We wish only for our children to form an alliance so that we may be able to assist the Jedi in the future.”   
  
Anakin remained silent as the image faded.   
  
“What gifts do the people of Dathomir have to offer us?” Tristan wondered; looking from Yoda’s still expression to Anakin’s troubled one.   
  
“Force sensitive the women are,” Yoda replied.   
  
“They’re witches,” Anakin spat angrily, shocking Tristan, who not used to seeing his mentor become angry.

 

“They use the dark side to cast spells,” he sighed, running his fingers through his long hair. “Master, you’re not actually going to consider their request, are you?”   
  
“A long time have I contemplated this,” Yoda sighed. “Uncertain I am of their sincerity.”   
  
“I don’t think we can, nor should we trust them,” Anakin countered. “Their entire history has been using the dark side. The entire planet radiates evil.”

 

He cast a sideways glance at a stunned Tristan. “I don’t think exposing anyone off Dathomir to their influence is a good idea.”   
  
“Hmm…” Yoda rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Good point you have, but if genuine their desire is to change, help them only Jedi can.”   
  
“And what if they’re plan is to taint the Jedi?” Anakin countered reasonably. “We struggle enough with the dark side without having any internal encouragement.”   
  
“Make that choice each one of us must,” Yoda pointed out. “If only train children we do, significantly less the risk will be.”   
  
Anakin nodded silently, grudgingly admitting that Yoda was right.   
  
“Master,” Tristan began, turning to Yoda. “You said the women were Force sensitive. What about the men on Dathomir?”   
  
Anakin snorted earning a sharp glare from Yoda.   
  
“No one knows,” Anakin replied, facing him. “The men of Dathomir are _property_ of their female _owners_. Their job is to fulfill their owner’s every demand, be seen and not heard.”   
  
“Oh,” Tristan looked away uneasily.   
  
“Sending you to Dathomir, I am,” Yoda announced. “Meet with Mother Tuija and report back to me you will.”   
  
Anakin glanced sharply at Yoda. “Master?”   
  
“Not an official assignment this is,” Yoda continued, ignoring him. “When a decision is made, informed the Council will be.”   
  
Anakin and Tristan exchanged worried glances. It was Tristan that spoke up.

 

“Master, if the witches hold men in such low esteem, perhaps a team of female Jedi would be better…”   
  
“No,” Yoda snapped, shaking his head adamantly. “If honest the witches are in wanting to help other beings, get used to dealing with men they will have to.”   
  
“When do we leave?” Anakin asked.   
  
“Tomorrow morning,” Yoda replied. “May the Force be with you.”

 

Anakin and Tristan rose together and bowed.

 

“May the Force be with you as well, Master,” Anakin said before he and Tristan exited the small Jedi’s quarters.

 

Tristan was quiet as he practically ran to keep pace with Anakin's ground-eating strides. He could easily sense his mentor’s turbulent emotions and was at a loss as to what was causing them. Finally they reached their own quarters and Tristan took his chance.

 

“Master, what has you so…anxious about this mission?” he questioned as he sat down.

 

Anakin sighed deeply, sitting himself next to his apprentice. “To be honest, I don’t know. Looking at that hologram of that Nightsister, it was…I just was overcome with a feeling of…wrongness. It felt for the entire galaxy like our going to Dathomir could change the course of fate.”

 

Tristan didn’t know how to reply. He’d learned over their years together that Anakin’s feeling were usually right, but never before had any of his feeling scared Tristan; this one did.

 

“I’m certain everything will be fine, Master,” he spoke after several moments.

 

Anakin looked at him. “I hope you’re right.”

 

Tristan gave a smile as he stood and walked to his room, not noticing the look that came over Anakin’s face as he left the room.

 

“I fear nothing will be fine ever again, young one,” Anakin whispered into the air.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

 

/

 

”Master Skywalker, we’re entering the Dathomir system,” the pilot of their craft said over the comm.

 

Anakin stood to activate the comm in the holding area where he and Tristan were seated. “Thank you, Captain.”

 

Tristan settled into his seat and secured his crash-webbing as Anakin then did the same.

 

“Still having bad feelings, Master?” the young man questioned.

 

Anakin didn’t answer right away; he closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, probing the planet as best he could. When he sensed nothing definite, he opened his eyes.

 

“Not bad necessarily, just…uneasy,” he decided on. “Keep your senses sharp when we get out there, and…”

 

“And what?” Tristan asked.

 

“Be ready for anything,” Anakin instructed.

 

Tristan nodded just as they both felt the ship entering the atmosphere of Dathomir.

 

/

   
Anakin led Tristan down the ramp of their ship, his eyes taking in the dense forest in the distance before settling on the four women waiting expectantly a few feet away. The women were dressed in traditional reptile skins, thick robes, helmets with soaring antlers and all carried blasters.   
  
He didn’t need the Force to feel the barely contained hostility emanating from all but one of the women. Inhaling deeply, he whispered a silent prayer for the wisdom to handle the meeting with Mother Tuija.   
  
“Welcome, Jedi,” a young woman intoned lightly as she stepped forward, dipping her head formally. “I am Riema of the Singing Mountain Clan. I will be escorting you to the fortress.”   
  
“Riema,” Anakin returned her greeting. “I am Master Anakin Skywalker and this is my student, Tristan Kenobi.”   
  
“Hello,” Riema smiled at Tristan, her green eyes lighting with interest.   
  
Tristan gazed at her in stunned silence, slowly taking in her beauty, earning hushed snickers from the three other women.   
  
“P-p-pleased to meet you,” he finally stammered, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. He had grown accustomed to young girl’s attentions over the years, but never had a woman affected him so.   
  
Anakin glanced at him sharply as Riema lead them to the rancors that would carry them to the fortress.   
  
“It will be a short trip through the forest,” she explained, easily climbing on her rancor. “We have prepared a special feast in your honor, we hope you will enjoy.”   
  
“I’m sure we will.” Anakin replied. He glanced quickly at Tristan, perched atop his mount, staring at Riema with a dazed look on his face and sighed. This was a complication he definitely did not need.   
  
/  
  
Riema lead the way through the forest, followed by Anakin and Tristan, with two of the women flanking their sides, the third bringing up the rear. Anakin took in the sights and sounds of the native wildlife and vegetation, settling into a light meditative state.   
  
He enjoyed the calm energy flowing throughout the planet, until they began their approach to the fortress. No announcement was necessary; for the peace began to evaporate into a dark malevolence the closer they came to the witches’ home. The dark side was pulling at his senses. He recognized it well.  
  
Anakin regained full awareness as they started up the trail.   
  
“Where does the other path lead?” Tristan wondered aloud.   
  
“To the slaves’ quarters,” the woman to his left answered in amusement.   
  
“Oh.”

 

Tristan exchanged an uneasy look with Anakin. He’d known about the slaves, of course, but he hadn’t given much thought to the reality of the situation until that moment. He could clearly see the disgust on Anakin’s face and he could feel his wish to do something about it.  
  
Reaching the fortress, they quickly dismounted and were lead inside the triangular building. In the center of the room, a large animal roasted while two men basted and turned the spit. Several dozen women were scattered throughout the room, watching the guests wearily.   
  
The woman from the hologram immediately stepped forward, a warm smile on her aged face. “Greetings, I am Mother Tuija. I welcome you on behalf of the nine clans of Nightsisters.”   
  
Anakin introduced himself and Tristan as Tuija led them to several leather cushions in the back of the room.   
  
“I did not expect Master Yoda to send...” she paused, considering her words,“…two male Jedi.”   
  
Anakin bit back a retort as he settled on the cushion. He could feel her unease and awkwardness and knew it was because she was being forced to negotiate with two men. _Serves her right,”_ he thought to himself.

 

“Master Yoda felt you may be more comfortable dealing with the men in the Order in the future if you met with two now.”   
  
“Humph,” Tuija sniffed. “Perhaps I’ll understand that decision as time passes. As you know, the men of Dathomir are treated quite differently.”   
  
Anakin nodded, shifting uneasily on his cushion. ”Yes, I’m aware.”  
  
“What time are you set to depart for Coruscant?” Tuija asked, getting right down to business. “We hope you will be willing to stay for this evening’s feast but we can have them ready…”   
  
“Actually, a final decision has not yet been made,” Anakin interrupted.   
  
“I beg your pardon?” Tuija stiffened. “Why else have you come if not to collect our female children and their mothers?”   
  
Anakin inhaled deeply, pushing back the flash of anger threatening to overwhelm him at Tuija’s disdainful attitude towards the males. He cleared his throat, and his thoughts, before he answered.  
  
“We have several concerns,” he began evenly. “First, your history of…using spells.”   
  
“That’s our heritage,” Tuija pointed out.   
  
“They would not be permitted,” Anakin continued firmly. “A Jedi may use the Force for guidance, strength and defense, never for personal gain.”   
  
Tuija sighed heavily.

 

“I’m sure our children can become accustomed to that,” she replied. “What else?”   
  
“If we train your children, they will be trained at one of our undisclosed training academies where visits from parents or other clan members would not be permitted.”   
  
Tuija’s head snapped up in horror. Her eyes glittered with anger.

 

“What!” she exclaimed. “How can that be a condition when I know full well the Jedi Order has been allowing parents to be a part of their children’s lives and training for years?”  
  
“You can’t argue your children would be special cases,” Anakin replied. “They were born to women who’ve spent their entire lives using the…,” he paused, not wanting to completely offend his host. “Using spells the Jedi would consider inappropriate.”   
  
“They have not been trained to use spells yet and you will instruct them not to,” Tuija flared indignantly. ”Their mothers should not be excluded.”  
  
“Perhaps,” Anakin conceded. “But providing the children with exposure to your culture and traditions could put our teachings in jeopardy. That is why we cannot risk the children having any contact with their clans until their training is complete. I’m afraid that this condition is non-negotiable.”   
  
Tuija clenched her jaw in frustration. “Anything else?”   
  
“One more thing,” Anakin steeled himself for her reaction. “The Jedi Order does not discriminate, and we feel that your male children should have the same opportunity as the females.”   
  
Tuija gapped at him slack-jawed. “What?”   
  
“The male children should have…”   
  
“I heard you,” Tuija snapped. “I was just hoping I’d heard wrong.”

 

She glanced around the room. “There is no reason for the males to be part of the training. They are quite satisfied with their lives as they are.”   
  
Tristan snorted earning a sharp kick from Anakin.   
  
“Nevertheless, it should be considered,” he argued.   
  
Tuija studied him silently for a few moments.

 

“Very well,” she finally said, rising from her cushion. “I will bring your conditions to the attention of the other clan leaders.”

 

She waved Riema over.   
  
“Escort the two Jedi to their sleeping quarters,” she ordered before turning back to face Anakin. “I will summon you when our meeting is concluded.”   
  
Anakin nodded, bowing politely.

 

Riema motioned for them to stand, her eyes never leaving Tristan. “This way, please.”

 

Anakin and Tristan followed her the short distance to their quarters. She moved aside to allow them to enter. Anakin thanked her politely and stepped inside, missing the heated look that passed between Riema and his apprentice.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**  


/  
  
Anakin stepped into the large sleeping chamber, gingerly walking past the dozen straw mattresses to the opening in the back of the room. He felt a strong sense of melancholy beckoning from that direction.   
  
Riema watched him quizzically. The tall Jedi was a mystery to her.

 

“Your friend doesn’t talk much,” she observed, Tristan following her into the center of the room.   
  
“Master Anakin is just focused on the mission,” he replied, his heart skipping a beat at her nearness. “”He’s usually much more talkative.”  
  
“Master?” Riema frowned. “Are you his slave?”   
  
“No,” Tristan replied, gazing into her twinkling blue eyes. “I am a Jedi apprentice, Master Anakin is my teacher.”   
  
“But you call him Master?” Riema curled a lose strand of her dark hair around her fingers. “Why?”   
  
“He’s a Jedi Master,” Tristan explained swallowing the lump in his throat.

 

 _She’s beautiful_ , he said to himself.  
  
“Someday I will be too,” he told her with a bright smile on his face.  
  
Riema smiled back, gazing steadily into his eyes.   
  
Several minutes of silence passed as the two continued to star unabashedly into each other’s eyes.   
  
“I…should be going,” Riema finally stammered, looking away shyly.   
  
“Do you have to?” Tristan didn’t bother to hide the hopeful tone in his voice. ”I mean, couldn’t you stay and we could talk for a while?”  
  
Riema paused before answering. What was it about this young man that captivated her so? While she hadn’t taken any slaves yet, as a woman she was used to having the upper hand with any man she came into contact with but Tristan completely unnerved her.   
  
“I’m sorry, but I really do have to be going,” she replied apologetically. “But I will return when Mother Tuija is ready for you.”   
  
Tristan watched her go, a sly grin on his face. ”I can’t wait.”  
  
/  
  
Anakin stood on the parapet, his long hair being tousled by the gentle breeze as he gazed at the valley below. His attention was fixed on the tendrils of smoke coming from the slave’s quarters. The melancholy he’d felt was coming from there.   
  
He sighed heavily, head hanging. Judging by Mother Tuija’s strong reaction, it was unlikely the men of Dathomir would experience any change in their lives. Frustration mixed with anger at the unfairness of it all began to well up inside him. He slammed his hand down on the railing in his anger, not even realizing that he drew blood.  
  
He wanted nothing more than to charge down the hill and free everyone. He knew he was being irrational but sometimes he wished the Jedi would forget politics and force others to do what was right. Memories of his own childhood sprung to mind then, as did memories of the Jedi Master that risked everything to free him from that childhood of slavery. How he wished he could be these peoples Qui-Gon Jinn.  
  
“Master?” Tristan stepped beside him. “Are you all right? You’re bleeding.”   
  
Anakin turned to face him, pushing his thoughts aside as he pulled a bandage from his utility belt and wrapped up the small wound Tristan pointed out.

 

“Stretch out with your feelings,” he instructed. “What do you sense?”   
  
“A test,” Tristan mused.   
  
Anakin chuckled as Tristan closed his eyes. Reaching through their bond, he felt Tristan opening himself to the Force.   
  
“Sadness…weariness…and resignation, coming from there,” Tristan pointed to the slave’s quarters without opening his eyes.   
  
Anakin nodded his approval. He was still amazed at how easily this young man reached for the Force, and how readily the Force reached back. Like his father before him, Tristan Kenobi was a beacon. The Force leapt to do his bidding at even the slightest urge.  
  
“Do you think the Nightsisters will let us train the boys?” he asked as he reached further into the dense forest.   
  
“No,” Anakin sighed. “At least not…”

 

He jerked back abruptly as an intense wave of evil washed over him.   
  
Tristan gasped loudly, his eyes flying open in shock.

 

“Wha…what was that?” he breathed.   
  
Anakin gazed silently at the area the evil was coming from. His eyes found nothing, but he could sense something…elusive; something he’d only heard about.

 

“I think it’s the Chu’unthor,” he whispered in amazement.   
  
“What is the Chu’unthor?” Tristan questioned, curiosity coloring his tone.   
  
Anakin took a deep breath before replying. He was stunned at the power of the dark side surrounding the ship after all this time. It was immensely powerful.

 

“The Chu’unthor was a traveling Jedi Academy about four-hundred years ago,” he began slowly. “The ship was sent here to back up the Jedi who were battling the witches. It was damaged and forced to crash land in the forest, where it remains to this day.”   
  
“Why didn’t the Jedi repair it when they left?” Tristan asked.   
  
“They tried,” Anakin said sadly. “But they were repelled by the witches.”   
  
“The Jedi were repelled by the witches?” Tristan shuddered. “Master, how is that possible?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Anakin answered honestly. “But I do know that Master Yoda was one of the Jedi who tried to retrieve the ship. He’s never explained the details and the official record only states the Jedi were unsuccessful, both in retrieving the ship and defeating the witches.”  
  
“But why would Master Yoda be so secretive?” Tristan wondered. “What could be so important that he would keep the details to himself for four-hundred years?”  
  
“I don’t know for sure,” Anakin began. “Obi-Wan believed, as do I, that it has to do with the power the witches wield. The dark side is strong on this planet and within the women living here. Master Yoda has always believed it’s better to limit one’s exposure to such powerful influences. The dark side weakens your senses and your judgment. It leaves you vulnerable.”   
  
“That’s why he’s so concerned about training them,” Tristan concluded. “We’re opening ourselves and the entire Jedi Order to something dangerous by being here, Master.”  
  
“Yes, we are,” Anakin nodded. “That is why they will need to undergo very specialized training…if they agree to our terms at all. Honestly, I’m hoping they’ll decide the terms are unacceptable to them and we’ll be on our way with no harm done.”

 

”Do you really think it’ll be that simple, Master?” Tristan questioned. “They contacted us for a reason. I’m beginning to think it has nothing to do with them wanting their younglings to be trained as Jedi.”

 

Anakin shivered at those words. Slowly, something he hadn’t truly felt since he was a child living on Tatooine began to creep into his mind, his heart…and his soul.

 

Terror; stark, powerful terror.  
  
The two men fell into an uneasy silence. Tristan shivered along with him as a cold wave of malevolence washed over him. Suddenly, he was very worried about training anyone from Dathomir.

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**  


/

  
Several hours passed. Anakin and Tristan both made use of the time after their talk to meditate, seeking guidance and wisdom from the Force. Finally, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Riema appeared, clearing her throat to get their attention.   
  
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” she apologized softly. “The clan leaders have completed their meeting and Mother Tuija would like to meet with you now to discuss the outcome before dinner is served.”   
  
Anakin and Tristan shared a look before both rose quickly from their mats, following Riema back to the main room of the fortress. Several dozen Nightsisters were gathered around the cooking fire speaking in hushed voices while Mother Tuija stood regally in the far corner of the room.   
  
“Jedi Skywalker, Kenobi,” she greeted formally before lowering herself onto her mat and gesturing for Anakin and Tristan to follow suit. Neither man missed the fact that despite her somewhat friendly tone of voice, her gesture was more a command than a request. Nevertheless, they both took a seat.  
  
“My fellow clan leaders and I have decided we will honor your request to train our daughters at an undisclosed location without their mothers,” she began, her tone laced with disapproval at the very thought of it. “However, we would like to communicate with our daughters in letters or messages once or twice a month.”   
  
She gazed squarely into Anakin’s eyes, her look making it clear the request was not up for debate. Anakin held her gaze with his own for several moments before he answered.  
  
“The Masters in charge of the initiates will need to approve the outgoing and incoming messages first,” Anakin replied firmly.   
  
Tuija recoiled but offered no protest.   
  
“The messages will not be altered…” Anakin paused momentarily for effect,”…as long as they do not attempt to influence our teachings.”   
  
“We’ve already agreed on that,” Tuija huffed angrily.   
  
“What about the males…?”  
  
“No,” she interrupted. “We are all in agreement the males are to remain here.”

 

She glanced across the room at the male slaves preparing the evening meal. “Even if there are a minute few among them who possess the ability to use the Force, it is irrelevant in their lives as slaves.”   
  
Anakin blinked in disgust, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. 

 

“Perhaps they deserve a chance to decide for themselves in which direction their lives will go,” he said, struggling to keep his anger in check.   
  
“No,” Tuija replied more firmly. “They are slaves now. They have always been slaves and they always will be slaves. The gods have chosen that destiny for them and we will not go against them. Discussion of the matter is closed, Jedi Skywalker.”   
  
Anakin looked away, frustrated he could not free the men. His eyes scanned the room, grimacing at the sight of the men, dressed in scant animal skins, serving the Nightsisters as they lounged around the fire. He had no words to describe the sorrow and disgust he felt for their station in life.  
  
“Perhaps in the future,” he muttered under his breath.   
  
Tristan shifted uncomfortably next to him.  
  
“There is one other request we would like to make,” Tuija continued, oblivious to Anakin’s reaction. “We would like our daughters trained by female Jedi only.”   
  
“What?” Tristan balked.   
  
“We’d like our daughters trained only by female Jedi,” Tuija said dryly. “Assuming that in your just and fair Jedi Order you have females capable of training children.”   
  
“Of course we do,” Anakin breathed, placing a restraining hand on Tristan’s arm. “However, masters do not choose their padawans.”   
  
“Excuse me?” Tuija gapped at him in shock.   
  
“The Force guides each master to the padawan best suited for him or her,” Anakin explained. “I cannot guarantee who the Force will guide your daughters to.”   
  
“We believe females are best trained by females,” Tuija argued. “We understand each other better and…”   
  
“I’m sure you do,” Anakin conceded in a quick interruption. “But as Jedi, we trust the Force to make the right decision. It always has so far.”   
  
Mother Tuija was silent for a few moments, chewing on her bottom lip.

 

“Very well then,” she finally agreed; rising to her feet.   
  
“Now that we have agreed to the terms, I am pleased to invite you to our evening feast. In addition, you are welcome to remain here for the night. Our chosen daughters will be ready to leave first thing in the morning, unless…” she gazed at Anakin,”…you insist on leaving tonight.”

 

Tristan didn’t need the Force to tell him that Mother Tuija and the other Nightsisters would be pleased if they chose to leave immediately. So of course, Anakin did the exact opposite of what their guests wanted.

  
“We’ll be happy to join you for dinner and we accept your invitation to spend the night,” Anakin accepted with a bright smile on his face, no doubt disappointing the Nightsisters.  
  
/  
  
The next morning, Anakin slipped away from the fortress to send a message to Yoda. Tristan remained behind to begin the work on creating a record for each of the children they would be taking for training. Riema stood by his side providing the names and clans each of the girls belonged to.   
  
Tristan smiled warmly at the new initiates, hoping to make them feel more at ease. He knew the young girls had already begun the portion of their training as witches that taught them that men were beneath them. He hoped his friendly demeanor would quickly change that view.  
  
“You’ll find them to be very friendly and eager to learn,” Riema explained. “They will not give you any trouble.”   
  
“I’m sure they won’t,” Tristan replied as he recorded the last name into his data pad.   
  
“When will your Master be returning?”   
  
“Any time now,” Tristan answered, checking the time on his wrist chrono.    
  
“Perhaps you’d like a little tour of our premises,” Riema offered shyly.   
  
Tristan’s heart skipped a beat, exhilarated at the opportunity to spend time alone with her. “I’d love it.”   
  
Riema took his hand, leading him out of the Fortress.

 

“We’ll be right back,” she called out to Mother Tuija as they left.   
  
/  
  
Anakin slid down from his rancor, patting its neck affectionately. He was speaking softly into its ear when he caught a sudden movement from the corner of his eye.   
  
Peeking around the beast, he froze, his mouth dropping open at the sight of Tristan sharing a tender kiss with one of the Nightsisters. Clenching his jaw in barely contained fury, he stepped around the rancor, clearing his throat.   
  
Tristan and Riema jumped apart guilty.   
  
“Padawan, are the new initiates ready for the journey?” he asked, his gaze shifting from Tristan to Riema.   
  
“Yes, Master,” Tristan gulped. “I followed your instructions completely. All of their information has been catalogued in my datapad and is ready to be input into the central system at the Temple.”   
  
“I’ll see you inside,” Riema breathed, running into the Fortress, wanting to put as much distance between herself and the angry Jedi Master as she could.   
  
Anakin gazed disapprovingly at Tristan.   
  
“We should probably get going,” Tristan said, starting after Riema.   
  
“In a minute,” Anakin replied grabbing his arm as he tried to quickly move past. “You and I are going to have a serious talk first.”

 

Tristan sighed deeply. “Must we, Master?”

 

Anakin glared, leaving no room for interpretation in his look. “Move.”

 

Tristan understood the message in Anakin’s eyes and did as he was told, moving off to a distance where he was sure he would receive the worst lecture of his life.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

 

/

 

Anakin, still angry at what he had seen, led Tristan to a secluded spot, keeping the entrance to the Fortress in his line of sight.   
  
“Did Master Yoda tell you where we are taking the new initiates?” Tristan asked, hoping to put off the inevitable lecture he was about to receive as long as possible.   
  
“Yes,” Anakin replied sternly. “But that’s not what we have to talk about and you know it.”   
  
Tristan sighed heavily. In all the years he’d spent with Anakin, he’d never been on the receiving end of any of the lectures he’d heard Arik and Luke getting from their father. In a way, Tristan felt the coming lecture was a rite of passage, another sign that he was, to Anakin, another son. But that did not make any more eager to actually hear the lecture.

 

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong, Master,” he began defensively. “Jedi are allowed to fall in…” he coughed to clear his throat,”…have relationships now.”

 

Tristan knew he’d said the wrong thing when he saw Anakin’s look. He shifted uncomfortably under Anakin’s disapproving gaze, his eyes lowering to the ground.   
  
“I’m well aware of that,” Anakin mused dryly. “In fact, if you’ll recall some of your history lessons, I’m the Jedi most directly responsible for that. However, no matter the rules, a Jedi must still be very careful about who he becomes involved with.”   
  
“I know,” Tristan insisted.   
  
“I wonder if you do. It doesn’t appear that way. Were you truly being careful, you’d know that you shouldn’t be getting involved with a Dathomiri witch,” Anakin chastised.   
  
Tristan’s head snapped up. His blue-gray eyes blazed in sudden fiery anger.

 

“She’s _not_ a witch!” he flared hotly. “Riema is a sweet, wonderful young woman who…”   
  
“I’m sure she is,” Anakin interrupted. “But she’s filled with the dark side. It radiates off of her in waves, Tristan. I’m sure you can feel it as well as I can.”   
  
“Yes,” Tristan admitted. “But she doesn’t use spells, Master. She’s not dangerous.”   
  
Anakin gazed at him incredulously. _Does the boy really believe anyone could be filled with the dark side and not use it_ , Anakin thought.

 

“The dark side surrounds her,” he explained. “She may not actively use it, yet, but it is there and influences her whether she wants to admit it or not.”   
  
“She can’t help that,” Tristan argued.   
  
Anakin squeezed his shoulder. “Tristan; I know Riema has good qualities but she’s too close to the dark side for you or any Jedi to get personally involved with her. You must end this…dalliance before it goes any further than a few kisses.”   
  
“Why?” Tristan demanded, pulling away from Anakin’s hold. “Even if what you’re saying is true, I can lo…be involved with Riema without our relationship changing me.”   
  
Anakin forced himself to take a deep breath before answering. He disliked arguing with his apprentice, and he hated even more the feeling of disappointment in him he felt permeating Tristan’s thoughts.

 

“No, you can’t,” he replied softly. “Riema may not call upon the dark side but it does impact her, and in turn could impact you.”   
  
“It won’t,” Tristan persisted. “I can handle it, Master. I _know_ I can.”   
  
“Tris, I’m sorry, but it’s too much of a risk,” Anakin replied, shaking his head.

 

“I know,” he said, bringing up his hand to stop Tristan’s protest before it began again. “I experienced being too close to someone infused with the dark side as well.”   
  
“And you resisted,” Tristan pointed out.   
  
“Barely,” Anakin admitted. “And I wouldn’t have without the support of the entire Jedi Order and the woman I love.”   
  
“I’d have that as well,” Tristan replied weakly.   
  
“Possibly,” Anakin acknowledged. “But I want you to think about something. Riema’s life is one of service to the Nightsisters of this world. Their traditions, their use of spells and the dark side are her heritage and her birthright. She will remain true to what she knows, and one day you would be forced to choose between us and her. You would face the same choice between light and dark that I faced.”   
  
Tristan looked away, unable to deny Anakin’s words.   
  
“Trust me,” Anakin began, putting his arm around Tristan’s shoulders. “Nothing good can come from your involvement with Riema.”   
  
Tristan hung his head, his shoulders slumping.

 

“It’s not fair!” he cried. “Everybody gets to be happy but me!”   
  
“You’ll find happiness with someone else,” Anakin offered.   
  
Tristan glared in response. He hated platitudes.  
  
“Sorry,” Anakin shrugged. “I know that’s not what you want to hear right now but it’s the truth. There’s a whole galaxy out there filled with women, and one day you’ll find the right one for you.”   
  
“Don’t patronize me, Master,” Tristan groaned, blinking the tears from his eyes.

 

Anakin despised having hurt his padawan, but he truly believed he was helping the young man. In the long run, keeping him from Riema was in Tristan’s best interest. As his master, and more importantly as his pseudo-father, Tristan’s best interests were of paramount concern.  
  
“Master?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

 

”Yes?”

 

“Did…did...the Jedi…” he paused, gathering his courage to ask his next question,”…did my father know about you and Padme?”   
  
Anakin blinked in surprise.

 

“We never spoke about it,” he finally replied. “But I believe he did. I never could get much past Obi-Wan.”   
  
“Would he have let you see her? If you talked to him about it, I mean?”   
  
Anakin inhaled deeply as memories surfaced of the weak excuses he’d given of where he’d been; knowing looks and uncomfortable silences exchanged between him and Obi-Wan over the years flooded his mind.   
  
“I don’t believe he would have ever given his approval,” he finally replied, sadness evident in his tone. “Your father believed in and adhered to the Jedi Code all his life.”   
  
“But he and mom…” Tristan flushed.   
  
“Sex was never forbidden, Tris,” Anakin explained gently. “Attachment was forbidden. Most Jedi found comfort and even love with each other, though they would never call it that. You’re not the only product of a relationship between two Jedi.”   
  
“So they didn’t break the rules?”   
  
“Only technically,” Anakin replied. “I know they loved each other deeply and not being able to express it freely was probably the hardest thing either of them had to deal with. They both excelled at upholding the Jedi Code.”   
  
“I wish they would have run off together,” Tristan whispered softly. “Maybe then…”  
  
“They would never have been happy had they done that,” Anakin said. “Your mother could have adjusted, but not your father. His life was being a Jedi. He _needed_ the Order as much as he [i]loved[/i] your mother. That made his choice pretty clear.”   
  
“What was it like when she left?”   
  
“Obi-Wan was devastated,” Anakin sighed. “He was frantic to try and find her and when he realized he couldn’t…shouldn’t, he locked himself in his room for days.”   
  
“And when he came out?”   
  
Anakin gazed into the distance for several minutes before answering. “He was different; a subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless. Only those of us closest to him noticed the change…the lingering sadness. He hid it well but it was always there.”   
  
“Did he ever…ah…you know…um….find another…”   
  
Anakin glanced at him sharply, but Tristan’s eyes were locked firmly on the ground.

 

“Not that I’m aware of,” he exhaled. “In his eyes, no one could have measured up to your mother.”   
  
“That’s how I feel about Riema,” Tristan confessed.   
  
Anakin grimaced at the heartsick look in Tristan’s eyes. It was like looking into Obi-Wan’s eyes nearly twenty-one years earlier. So similar were father and son in that moment that Anakin would have sworn that he’d suddenly been transported to the past.  
  
“I…I think I love her, Master.”   
  
“You don’t know her well enough to love her,” Anakin replied.   
  
“But you always said you fell in love with Padme at first sight,” Tristan challenged.   
  
“I fell in love, at nine years of age, with my mother’s romantic ideas of falling in love,” Anakin reminded him. “I didn’t _love_ Padme like that then. She was merely the personification of an idea I’d heard my mother speak of often as a child. It took me a long time to realize that. However, we’re not talking about me.”   
  
“You don’t understand!”   
  
“I understand all too well,” Anakin retorted, his voice rising. “I used to be your age myself and…”   
  
“You always said you fell in love with Padme all over again when you saw her after ten years,” Tristan accused, glaring at him.   
  
Anakin took several deep breaths, forcing himself to remain calm. Never before had Tristan tried his patience as he was during their conversation.

 

“It’s not the same, Tris. Yes, I admit I harbored a crush on her for years,” he ignored Tristan’s triumphant look. “But I also took the time to get to know her and really fall in love with her when we were sent to Naboo.”   
  
“But…but…I…it feels so…so…” Tristan moaned.   
  
“That’s your hormones talking.”   
  
“Master!” Tristan jerked away, his cheeks flushing bright red.   
  
“I know all about _that_ as well,” Anakin replied. “Do you want to talk about…”   
  
“No!” Tristan insisted loudly. “No, I do not; absolutely not.”  
  
Anakin chuckled softly.   
  
“Tris,” he called, sobering. He waited until Tristan turned to look at him.

 

“My biggest regret in life is that I did not trust Obi-Wan with the truth regarding my feelings for and relationship with Padme. I know things would have been different…” his voice broke, causing a pause in his words. ”I should have trusted him. I can only hope that you’ll trust me enough to learn from my mistakes, no matter who you eventually decide to become involved with.”   
  
Tristan nodded, his heart beating wildly. He couldn’t, wouldn’t give Riema up no matter what Anakin said.

 

“I will, Master,” he lied. ”I do trust you.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**  


/  
  
“Can you tell me where we’re going?” Tristan asked as Anakin eased the ship into hyperspace.   
  
“Dantooine,” Anakin answered, turning the pilot’s chair to face him.   
  
“Dantooine?” Tristan’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “I thought Dantooine was completely uninhabited. Don’t most beings consider it too remote a planet to live on?”   
  
“Yes,” Anakin replied, an amused smile on his face. “However, that attitude has been changing a bit in the last few years.”   
  
“Really?” Tristan shook his head in disbelief.   
  
“Don’t look so shocked, Padawan,” Anakin chided gently. “It’s not unheard of for some to appreciate and be drawn to a new world that has never been inhabited, modernized, or corrupted.”

 

He paused in his thoughts before continuing. “I’ve longed for such a place myself from time to time.”   
  
“I never will,” Tristan sniffed. “I can’t imagine being…cut off from society like that.”   
  
Anakin threw his head back and laughed. “You may find yourself changing your mind as the years go by. Maybe you’ll go off to live like a hermit on some desolate, unpopulated world.”  
  
“I doubt it,” Tristan mumbled, shifting in his chair. “Where will the children be staying?”  
  
Anakin grinned. “They’ll be housed in the newly constructed Temple.”   
  
Tristan’s head snapped up in shock. “The what?”   
  
“The Council authorized building a Temple several months ago,” Anakin explained.   
  
Tristan laughed heartily. “They authorized building a Jedi Temple in the middle of nowhere? Why?”   
  
Anakin sighed. Discussion of Council business outside the chamber and with someone not on the Council was forbidden, unless the business concerned that person. Anakin knew he could only reveal so much and nothing else.  
  
“We realized having a Temple in a remote area may be beneficial to various initiates who were having trouble…” he trailed off before finishing,”…adjusting to the training.”   
  
“There’s trouble in the Order?” Tristan’s eyes widened. “With who?”   
  
“I didn’t say there _was_ trouble,” Anakin countered. “I just said we recognized the need for a Temple, that’s all.”   
  
Anakin held up his hand to stop Tristan from speaking. “And it turns out we were right. Dantooine will be a perfect place for the children from Dathomir.”   
  
“Hmm…” Tristan bit his lip. He could sense there was more to the story than Anakin had told him but the look on his Master’s face indicated the discussion was over.   
  
He turned to gaze out the window into the vastness of space, his mind turning to Riema. His missed her fiercely already. He was plotting ways to see her again when a cry from the rear of the ship pulled him back to reality.   
  
“Sounds like the children are getting antsy,” Anakin announced rising from his chair. “Let’s go.”   
  
/   
  
Several hours later, Anakin led the initiates down the landing ramp, holding two toddlers. An exhausted Tristan brought up the rear, holding the hands of two very excited and wide-awake children.   
  
A tall Faleen steeped away from a group of Jedi, bowing deeply as Anakin reached the bottom of the ramp.   
  
“Master Skywalker.”   
  
Anakin could only bow his head after returning the greeting. The small children in his arms didn’t allow for anything more.  
  
“Welcome to Dantooine. I am Alister Orikan. I will be running the Temple and supervising the training until the younglings are ready to be taken as Padawan Learners.”   
  
“Nice to meet you,” Anakin replied glancing at the waiting Jedi. “Is this everyone?”   
  
“No,” Orikan chuckled. “I brought six Masters to help transport everyone to the Temple. We have seven more Masters and thirteen Padawans waiting for us there.”   
  
Anakin nodded his approval. ”Wonderful.”  
  
“The Temple is much smaller than the one on Coruscant,” Orikan explained as he led everyone to the speeders. “We have room for roughly one-hundred Jedi at a time, though we can add on if the need arises. We can also accommodate more staff if and when we need to.”   
  
“That sounds sufficient,” Anakin replied settling the toddlers into the nearest speeder. “Are there any settlements nearby?”   
  
“Only one close to the Temple,” Orikan answered, carefully watching as the remaining children were helped into the speeders. “It’s about one-hundred kilometers away and provides us with most of our supplies.”

 

He paused to climb into the speeder. “The locals seem happy to have Jedi nearby, though they don’t bother us at the Temple.”   
  
“They settle their own disputes?”   
  
“So far,” Orikan smiled. “They have legal and government type authorities but from what I can tell the beings are content to live quietly and in peace with each other.”   
  
“I wish everyone would be willing to do that,” Anakin mused. ”Sure would make things easier.”  
  
/  
  
Tristan sat in the last speeder, his arms protectively around the two children next to him as they all took in their surroundings, or lack of. The grasslands they passed were lush but barren of any sign of life and he quickly grew bored studying them.   
  
Closing his eyes, he mind once again shifted to thoughts of Riema. He smiled as her beautiful, grinning face materialized before him. Her eyes sparkling with love, her lips slightly parted just waiting for him to kiss…   
  
An excited cry interrupted his thoughts.   
  
Tristan opened his eyes, blinking in amazement at the sight of dozens of small huts and domes. They had come out of nowhere.

 

“What is this place?” he asked the Jedi driver.   
  
“It’s a small settlement near the Temple,” the driver called back.    
  
Tristan leaned back in his seat, a smile beginning to form on his face. Already an idea was forming in his mind.

 

“Are they friendly?” he gestured to the curious faces staring at the passing speeder.   
  
“Very,” the driver replied. “They seem intrigued by our presence.”  


Tristan smiled. He had already decided he would contact Riema and try to persuade her to relocate to Dantooine. If the natives were indeed friendly, perhaps they would be willing to accommodate a newcomer. 


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

 

/

 

 **Two Weeks Later**     


/  
  
Anakin led an exhausted Tristan from the High Council chambers after their debriefing. Yawning, he reached for his comlink to let Padme know that he and Tristan would be home soon.   
  
“Master Skywalker,” the young padawan on duty at the reception desk called out as both men walked past him.   
  
Anakin and Tristan stopped in unison, turning to face the young man.   
  
“I have a message for you from Mrs. Skywalker,” the padawan rose from the desk, a concerned look on his face. “She requests you return to your apartment as soon as possible, Master.”   
  
“Did she say why?” Anakin frowned, his heart skipping a beat. _What could possibly be wrong?_ he wondered frantically.  
  
“No, Master Skywalker, she simply indicated that you needed to return as soon as possible.”  
  
Anakin and Tristan exchanged concerned looks as they hurried from the room.   


/  
  
Anakin docked the speeder, jumped from the vehicle and raced into the apartment without saying a word; Tristan right on his heels.

 

“Pad…,” he stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted a familiar figure on one of the twin sofas facing each other.   
  
“What the kriff are you doing here?” he demanded hotly as Tristan reached his side.   
  
“Anakin!”   
  
“It’s quite alright, Padme,” Benjamen Kenobi said softly as he rose from the sofa with a grimace. While he knew he wouldn’t be greeted with open arms, the hostility radiating from Anakin took him by surprise.

 

“Anakin,” he nodded politely before turning his attention to Tristan. “You must by my nephew.”   
  
Tristan blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

 

He turned to Anakin. “This is…?”   
  
“I’m Benjamen Kenobi, Luke’s brother,” Ben stepped forward, offering his hand.   
  
Tristan gazed at him in confusion before it suddenly hit him. He remembered Anakin having told him years before that when he’d gone to Wukkar to tell Benjamen Kenobi of his brother’s death, the older man hadn’t cared.

 

“My father’s name was Obi-Wan,” he replied tightly ignoring Ben’s hand.   
  
“Of course,” Ben quickly dropped his hand to his side. “Perhaps we can be seated?”

 

He waited patiently while Anakin and Tristan walked to the sofa opposite him, sitting next to Padme. The fact that they presented a united front, like a family, wasn’t lost on him.  
  
Padme reached over, squeezing Anakin’s hand.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you,” she whispered.   
  
Anakin nodded in understanding.   
  
“I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here,” Ben said, his gaze squarely on Tristan.   
  
Tristan shrugged, looking away. ”Not really.”  
  
“I only recently discovered your existence from a HoloNet newscast,” Ben continued. “Not that they identified you as Lu…Obi-Wan’s son, but there aren’t that many Kenobi’s in the galaxy and even fewer who can use the Force.”

 

He laughed awkwardly after not receiving a reaction from Tristan. “So I thought I’d come by and meet my nephew face to face.”   
  
“Why?” Tristan demanded, suddenly turning to glare at him.   
  
“Wha…uh…excuse me?”   
  
“You didn’t care about my father when he was _alive_. Why should you care about _me now_?”   
  
Ben’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Of course I cared about Lu…Obi-Wan,” he protested.   
  
“Oh, really?” Tristan scoffed. “Is that why you said he deserved to die?”   
  
“What? I never…,”   
  
“You said he should have stayed at home and not gotten involved,” Tristan spat, his cheeks reddening with anger. “You said what he did didn’t matter to the Jedi Order or the galaxy as a whole.”   
  
“That’s not exactly what I said,” Ben mumbled, taken aback by Tristan’s reaction.   
  
“Did you say you loved him?” Tristan crossed his arms, glaring hatefully at his uncle. “Did you say that you were sorry that he was gone? Did you say that you wished he was still here so that you could know him, spend time with him?”   
  
“Well I…I…,” Ben turned to Anakin for help. “I...barely knew him, Tris.”   
  
“Don’t call me that!” Tristan yelled. “ _You_ don’t get to call me that!”  
  
“Tristan Kenobi!” Anakin grabbed his arm. ”Calm down right now.”  
  
Tristan bit his lip, attempting to control his raging anger.

 

Anakin was quickly becoming concerned about his young apprentice. Anger and hatred were easily visible on his face and in his eyes. What he saw there terrified him because he knew the look well. It was the same on he himself had worn as he slaughtered an entire village of Sand People.  
  
“Look, I _am_ sorry for what happened to Obi-Wan,” Ben offered. “I’m sorry I didn’t know him well enough to mourn his death in a manner in which you would approve.”  
  
Anakin shot him a thunderous look.   
  
“All I want right now is the chance to get to know you Tristan, to make up for not knowing Obi-Wan,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I hope you’ll give me the chance to make amends.”

 

He rose slowly from the sofa. “I’m staying at the Coruscant Regency a few kilometers away. I’ll be here for a week. I hope you’ll contact me.”   
  
Tristan didn’t respond as Benjamen made his way to the door, showing himself out.   
  
“Are you all right?” Padme asked softly, patting Tristan’s hand.   
  
“I don’t ever want to see him again,” Tristan replied tightly, jumping to his feet and storming to his room.   
  
“There’s somebody I didn’t think I’d ever see again,” Anakin sighed, leaning into the cushions. “How long was he here?”   
  
“About an hour,” Padme snuggled next to him, her head on his shoulder. “Do you think he really wants to get to know Tristan? Why now? Why after all these years?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Anakin replied tiredly as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I didn’t sense any deception or hostility in his presence; just something…odd, right under the surface.”   
  
“Should we encourage Tristan to spend time with him?”   
  
“I’ll leave it up to him,” Anakin announced. “There’s no reason to force the issue. If Benjamen has any sense, he’ll respect Tristan’s decision, as will I.”

 

Padme nodded. She agreed with Anakin. The decision had to belong to Tristan. He was an adult and fully capable of making the choice for himself.

 

/

 

In his room, Tristan was seething. His anger was palpable. His hands were clenched at his sides as he paced his room. His face was red and his heartbeat was erratic.

 

For a moment he stopped pacing and faced the reflector hanging on the wall opposite his bed. His own face was foreign to him as he stared into the transparisteel. But for some reason, he wasn’t frightened of his appearance.

 

Not even of the slight tint of yellow around his eyes.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

 

/

 

Benjamen Kenobi stood at the bottom of the massive flight of stairs leading to the Jedi Temple, his eyes fixed squarely on the center pillar as he contemplated his next move.   
  
It had been six days since his visit to the Skywalker home and he hadn’t heard a word from Tristan. That didn’t surprise him, though. Anakin made no secret of his feelings for him. It was only natural he would poison Tristan’s mind against him as well.   
  
He sighed, beginning the long climb. He was determined to see his nephew. If it had to be at the Jedi Temple, a place he loathed, so be it. He would never forgive the Jedi Order for taking Luke away from his home, his family.

 

 _Obi-Wan_ , he corrected. _I must remember to refer to him by his Jedi name in front of Tristan._  
  
Why his nephew was so adamant about a name was beyond him. He never knew his father, so what difference did it make? Still, if it would make him happy, Ben would do it for the time being. He was sure after he got to know Tristan better, he could influence the boy to see things his way.   
  
He reached the top of the stairs several minutes later, pausing to catch his breath. Was he imagining things or were the two young men at the doors smirking at him? Shaking his head, he marched determinedly to the entrance.   
  
“I’m here to see my nephew, Tristan Kenobi,” he announced.   
  
“Is he expecting you?” asked one of the young men, his tone accusatory.   
  
“No,” Ben admitted. “But I’m his uncle and I’m sure he will be happy to see me. If you’ll just step aside, I’ll…”  
  
“I’m sorry, Sir, but I cannot step aside.”

  
Ben blinked in surprise as both men moved closer together, completely blocking the entrance to the Temple.   
  
“No one may enter without an appointment,” Ben was informed. “Nor may you wander the Temple without an escort.”   
  
“Why you little…”  
  
“However, I will be happy to let Master Skywalker and his Padawan know you are here.”   
  
Ben bit back his anger as the young man turned and entered the Temple. He wouldn’t make a very good impression on Tristan, Anakin or the Jedi by forcing his way in the Temple.   
  
He shifted uncomfortably under the steady gaze of the remaining guard.   
  
_Skywalker is making me wait on purpose,_ he thought bitterly after several minutes went by.   
  
Finally, the doors opened once more. Ben was surprised to see Anakin and Tristan exit the Temple and not the young man that had entered.   
  
“Kenobi,” Anakin began as he and Tristan reached the older man. “What are you doing here?”   
  
“How are you, Tristan?” Ben asked his nephew, ignoring Anakin completely.   
  
“Fine,” Tristan answered between clenched teeth. “My master asked you a question.”   
  
“I came by to see you,” Ben shrugged.   
  
“Why?” Tristan demanded haughtily. “I thought I made it clear I want nothing to do with you.”   
  
“I thought you might change your mind…”  
  
“No,” Tristan interrupted. “I haven’t changed my mind and I won’t change my mind.”

 

He glared hatefully at Ben. “Not ever.”  
  
“Look Tris…Tristan,” Ben corrected hastily. “I understand you’re upset, but I’d like the opportunity to give you my side of the story, if you’ll let me.”    
  
“Your side,” Tristan scoffed. “You hated my father and said he deserved to die all because you didn’t agree with his choices and you think I want to hear anything you have to say?”   
  
“I didn’t hate Luke…”  
  
“Obi-Wan! His name was Obi-Wan!” Tristan shouted, pushing Ben to the ground in a move so quick that neither Ben nor Anakin saw it coming.   
  
“Tristan!” Anakin snapped, gripping the young man’s shoulders firmly. He pulled him away from Ben as the older man struggled to his feet’ his expression one of shock and barely restrained anger.

 

The two padawans at the door were watching them, mouths agape. Anakin could feel his padawan rapidly losing control.

 

“Go back inside; I’ll handle this from here.”   
  
Tristan opened his mouth to protest, closing it quickly as Anakin tightened his grip.

 

“Yes, Master.”   
  
Ben watched him walk away, waiting until the Temple doors closed behind him before turning to Anakin again.   
  
“I suppose you’re happy. You’ve brainwashed my nephew to…”   
  
“Shut up,” Anakin ordered, his voice rough and gritty with anger.   
  
Ben’s eyes widened with shock as Anakin leaned forward, stopping inches from his face.   
  
“I’m only going to tell you this once, so I’d suggest you listen very carefully,” he said tightly. “I want you to stay away from Tristan. I want you to stay away from me and my family and I want you to stay away from the Temple.”   
  
“Or?” Ben taunted.   
  
“Or I’ll make you wish you had heeded my warnings,” Anakin replied, his icy blue eyes flashing with fury.   
  
“You’re threatening me?” Ben shouted dramatically, turning to make sure anyone in range heard him.   
  
“Knock it off,” Anakin warned, his eyes narrowing. “Nobody here is impressed with your theatrics, Ben Kenobi. You’ve been asked, and now you’ve been _ordered_ to leave. You’re trespassing on private property. Now go.”  
  
Ben shrugged indifferently.   
  
“Don’t come here again,” Anakin ordered, marching back into the Temple.   
  
/  
  
**Late Evening**

**Jedi Temple**

 

/

 

At thirteen, Arik Skywalker was a growing boy, and always hungry. Late night trips to the dining hall were common. It was on the way back to the quarters he shared with Garen that he spotted Tristan entering the Temple, his robes wrinkled and his spiked hair disheveled.

 

“Hey, Tris,” he called.

 

Tristan turned quickly towards the younger boy, but said nothing.

 

Arik, ever the curious Skywalker, walked up the taller man and noticed right away that something was wrong.

 

“Tris, what…?”

 

Tristan moved quickly away, still not having spoken to Arik.

 

“Weird,” Arik muttered to himself as he headed for the lifts.

 

/

 

**Skywalker/Kenobi Quarters**

 

/

 

Tristan exited the lift and made the turn towards his and Anakin’s quarters when he saw his mentor exit a lift at the opposite end of the hallway.

 

“Master, what are you doing up so late?”

 

Anakin smiled tiredly. “I could ask you the same thing.”

 

Tristan shrugged uncomfortably. “I just…needed to clear my head. I took a walk.”

 

Anakin nodded. “It seems we had the same idea, Padawan.”

 

Anakin reached out and activated the door, thereby allowing Tristan to notice a newly applied bandage on his left hand.

 

“What happened, Master?”

 

Anakin jerked his hand back as the door opened and they entered their quarters. “Oh, I just…I went down to a junk shop in the lower levels. I scraped it on some metal.”

 

Tristan accepted the answer and bid his master goodnight, both men heading directly for their beds.

 

/

 

**The Next Morning**

 

/

 

Anakin was awakened by the chirping of his comm.   
  
“Skywalker,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.   
  
“Anakin,” Mace Windu’s stern voice greeted. “You and Tristan are to report to the Council immediately.”   
  
“Now?” Anakin frowned. “The Council doesn’t begin session for several more hours, Master.”    
  
“This isn’t a Council meeting,” Mace informed him. “Coruscant Security will be here in an hour to begin a murder investigation. We need to meet with you and Tristan first.”   
  
“Master, what…a murder investigation?” Anakin repeated. “Why…what does a murder have to do with the Jedi?”  
  
“I’m afraid it has more to do with the Jedi than you can imagine. Anakin, the victim is Benjamen Kenobi.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

 

/

 

“Tristan, wake up,” Anakin demanded as he walked into the younger man’s room.

 

Tristan, always a light sleeper, opened his eyes and blinked the sleep from them. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair before answering Anakin.

 

“What is it, Master?” he asked groggily.

 

Anakin sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I just got a call from Master Windu. He had some…bad news.”

 

“Is Padme okay? Luke, Leia, Arik?”

 

Anakin nodded. “Yeah, they’re all fine. It has nothing to do with them. It’s about your…about Benjamen.”

 

“What about him?” Tristan questioned.

 

Anakin didn’t miss his student’s anger at the mention of his uncle.

 

Deciding that Tristan was grown up enough to handle the news, he took a deep breath and spoke. “Master Windu told me that Benjamen has been murdered.”

 

Tristan’s eyes widened. “Murdered? Wow.”

 

“I’m sorry for…”

 

“For what?” the young man interrupted. “Sorry that he’s dead? Why? He was a despicable human being, Master. He hated my father.”

 

Anakin sighed. “I know. But he was your uncle, your only family.”

 

Tristan jumped up from his bed and whirled around to face Anakin. “No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t my family at all, Master. _You’re_ my family. You, Padme, Luke, Leia and Arik are my family; Master Garen too, but _not_ Benjamen Kenobi. You told me once when I was a child that biology has very little to do with the things that make people family. You said that love is what makes people a family. Well, I didn’t love that man and I seriously doubt that he cared one little bit about me.”

 

Anakin understood Tristan’s feelings. He didn’t like Obi-Wan’s brother at all either, and he too considered Tristan his family.

 

“There’s more,” Anakin revealed. “Coruscant Security will be here within the hour to begin their murder investigation.”

 

Tristan’s eyes showed shock and his shields slipped slightly revealing just a hint of…something Anakin couldn’t place. Quickly it was gone.

 

“Why are they coming here?” he questioned as he sat down at his desk.

 

Anakin stood. “I have no idea; perhaps because you and I both knew him, however briefly. I’m sure they just want to ask a few questions and will then be on their way. Get dressed; we have to appear before the Council before they get here.”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

Anakin left his apprentice to dress while he went back to his room and contacted Padme and told her what was going on.

 

/

 

After telling the Council of the confrontation with Benjamen Kenobi and their separate late evening activities, Anakin and Tristan were now both repeating the information for the Coruscant Security officer.

 

“Where did you go when you left the Temple, Padawan Kenobi?”

 

Tristan cleared his throat. “I went for a walk. I needed to clear my mind.”

 

“Where did you go?”

 

“I went to Dex’s Diner in CoCo Town,” he answered.

 

“Can anyone confirm that you were there last evening between 1900 and 2130 hours?” the officer asked in a suspicious tone of voice.

 

Tristan nodded. “Sure. Dex worked late last evening and saw me enter around 1920. You can ask him. He took my order and brought my food. I didn’t leave there until at least 2245 hours.”

 

Anakin smiled at his padawan.

 

“Did you see Benjamen Kenobi on your walk last night from here to the diner?”

 

“No,” Tristan answered easily.

 

“Master Skywalker, you also left the Temple after your confrontation with the victim. Where did you go?”

 

“The Sudime Junkyard,” he answered easily.

 

The officer wrinkled his nose. “A junkyard? Did you go there for a specific reason, Master Skywalker?”

 

Anakin smiled roguishly. “My sons and I have been building a speeder for quite some time and we needed a few parts. My youngest, Arik, went last time and he nearly got himself killed. So, this time I went.”

 

“Get what you needed?”

 

“Unfortunately not,” Anakin answered quickly.

 

“Is there anyone who can attest to your presence in the junkyard last night, Master Skywalker?”

 

Anakin nodded. “The night manager of the Sudime will tell you I was there. He was there the entire time I was searching for the part I needed. I was there for three or four hours, from about 1845 until 2230 when I finally gave up.”

 

The officer entered a few things into his datapad then looked up again.

 

“Padawan Kenobi, what was your relationship with your uncle?”

 

Tristan didn’t fidget, just answered calmly. “We didn’t have a relationship, Sir. He may have been my uncle biologically, but I knew little more about him than his name.”

 

“How well did you know him, Master Skywalker?”

 

“Not well at all,” Anakin revealed. “I first met him years ago when my wife and I went to his homeworld of Wukkar to inform him of his brother’s death. He was…uninterested at best. My next encounter with him was one week ago when he showed up here on Coruscant. Like my apprentice, I know little more about him than his name and his feelings of indifference where his brother was concerned.”

 

“Are you sorry he’s dead, Master Skywalker?”

 

Anger flashed in Anakin’s blue depths, but he managed to reign in his feelings enough to answer the question.

 

“Yes, I am,” he said softly, compassionately. “As a Jedi I have been taught to preserve life at all costs, and I make it my mission to do so. I feel sorrow and a sense of unrealized promise when a life is lost.”

 

“So, you liked the victim and you’re sorry he’s dead?”

 

“Yes, I am sorry he’s dead,” Anakin said through clenched teeth. “No one deserves to be murdered, but don’t misunderstand me; I didn’t like Benjamen Kenobi at all. He was a despicable human being who cared nothing for my mentor, his own brother. He dismissed Obi-Wan Kenobi’s passing as something trivial and then he had the audacity to come here and try to be a part of my apprentice’s life. He overstepped his bounds when he made that decision.”

 

The officer recorded a few other things and then presented the same question to Tristan.   


“Yes, I’m sorry he’s dead,” he answered. “Like Master Anakin said, no one deserves to be murdered in cold blood. But I’m not sorry he’s gone from my life. I didn’t like him, either. I didn’t like the way Master Anakin told me he spoke of my father and I didn’t like his attitude. Biology made him my uncle, but I felt no connection to him and I won’t miss him.”

 

“Well, I think that’s all I need from the two of you,” the officer said in his flat, disinterested voice. “I’ll just be speaking now with the night manager of the Sudime Junkyard and Dex of Dex’s Diner.”

 

“Officer Rholar, let me show you out,” Master Windu offered. “Follow me.”

 

Anakin and Tristan, along with Yoda watched as the two other men left the room.

 

“Very proud of both of you, I am,” Yoda said. “Handled that well, you both did.”

 

Anakin shrugged. “We told the truth, Master. I _am_ sorry he’s dead, but only because murder is a terrible way to lose your life. Not even Benjamen Kenobi deserved an end like that.”

 

Yoda raised his eyebrows, but didn’t comment. “Dismissed, you both are. May the Force be with you.”

 

Anakin and Tristan both bowed and exited the chamber together.

 

/

 

**Several Hours Later**

**Coruscant Security Headquarters**

 

/

 

“What’s wrong, Rholar?” another officer questioned the veteran investigator.

 

The gray-haired man shrugged as he tossed his datapad down. “I don’t know. There’s something…odd about this murder I’m investigating. Everyone I spoke with today corroborates the stories the two Jedi gave me.”

 

“That’s a good thing, right?” the other man questioned. “Jedi don’t lie anyway. What did you expect? That you’d find out they had both lied and had murdered the guy?”

 

Rholar shook his head. “No, I suppose not. I mean, there weren’t any signs of lightsaber wounds on the victim, and there were mild signs of a struggle. I can’t imagine that a Jedi would have to struggle to kill someone, not with their powers. But there’s just…something I can’t put my finger on. Something is out of place, I know it. I’ve been doing this long enough to know when something isn’t right; my gut tells me.”  


“Something like what?”

 

“I wish I knew,” he sighed. “I also wish I knew how far the Jedi Council would go to protect one of their own.”

 

“You mean; would they lie to protect a murderer if the victim was someone they didn’t think worthy of living, particularly if the murderer was a Jedi?”

 

Rholar nodded. “Yes, exactly like that. The Jedi, the famous one, Anakin Skywalker, he’s the one teaching the nephew of our victim, and he’s the former student of the victim’s deceased brother. He’d want to protect the kid if he did it, and the Jedi Order as a whole would probably fight to the death to protect Skywalker if he did it. So I’m just wondering if I’ll ever find out the truth behind all the power and mystique of the Jedi Order.”

 

“You don’t really believe that either of them had anything to do with this, do you, Jarek?”

 

Jarek Rholar took a deep breath. “I don’t want to believe it. I like the Jedi, I do. I liked Skywalker and his apprentice. They answered my questions honestly and openly and I respect that, but I have to wonder if I would even have known had they _not_ been honest and open.”

 

“I guess you’ll just have to take them at their word.”

 

“Guess I will,” Rholar agreed. “I’m going to head home. I’ll look at this case with fresh eyes tomorrow.”

 

The two men parted and Rholar continued to think the case over as he drove his speeder home.

 

/

 

**Jedi Temple**

 

/

 

Tristan and Anakin had spent the rest of their day in the training room sparring. They’d practices advanced katas for hours and now, after a nice hot shower, Tristan was lying in bed. He was exhausted, but also exhilarated. His mind was still twirling a thousand parsecs a minute.

 

When he finally drifted off into sleep, his dreams came.

 

/

 

**_1920 Hours_ **

**_Dex’s Diner_ **

 

/

 

_”Hey, Dex!” Tristan called as he entered the diner._

_The tall Besalisk smiled widely and came out to hug Tristan. “Hey, kid. Good to see you. What can I get you tonight?”_

_Tristan smiled. He loved Dex’s friendly nature. “I’ll have the nerf steak, stewed Corellian potatoes and some blue milk.”_

_“You got it,” Dex said as he went back into the kitchen._

_Tristan spread a collection datapads out before him as he waited for his meal to arrive. He was brushing up on some of his Galactic History when he noticed Benjamen Kenobi walking past the diner._

_Looking into the kitchen, he saw that Dex was the only employee still there other than one of the droid waitresses and that he was the only customer left. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tentatively reached out with his mind. He lightly brushed Dex’s mind with his own and concentrated on planting a vision in the mind of the friendly cook. He’d never tried the technique before and had only read about it in a mission report written by a Corellian Jedi named Valin Halcyon. But his power had grown so much under Anakin’s tutelage that he was confident he could make it work._

_Tristan needed for Dex to believe that he was in the same booth for as long as what he had planned took him to complete. With all the power he had in the Force, he pushed the vision of himself eating and drinking and laughing with Dex into the Besalisk’s mind._

_When he opened his eyes, Dex was standing in front of him, plate of food in hand._

_“Here you go, little Jedi,” Dex said._

_Tristan laughed at the nickname. “Thanks, Dex.”_

_He didn’t know if it had worked, but he’d have to take the chance anyway. He took a few bites and then stood. As he walked past the droid waitress, he lightly touched the back, using the Force to short out her power supply. She was fried instantly and unable to ask him where he was going._

 

/

 

_”I would have thought that after Master Anakin’s warning you would have left the planet,” Tristan called out when he caught up to Benjamen._

_The older man turned around and smiled. “I guess I was hoping for one more chance with you.”_

_Tristan sneered. “A chance with me for what? Being my friend? My uncle? You should have started with showing some respect for your dead brother, my father!”_

_“Listen, kid, I never…”_

_He stopped suddenly when he heard a snap-hiss and then saw a glowing blade before him._

_“No, you listen,” Tristan said in a dangerously low tone. “You don’t get any more chances. It ends here, now.”_

_Benjamen laughed. “What, are you going to kill me? You, the good little Jedi-in-training are going to kill me in cold blood? You don’t have it in you, kid. You aren’t much like your father near as I can tell. I may not have known Luke, but I saw enough on the HoloNet to know that he was a hero many times over. But you’re so much less than that, aren’t you? You’re…”_

_“Shut up!” Tristan yelled, his anger clearly coming through his shields now. His breathing had increased and his eyes were clouded._

_“His name was Obi-Wan! My father’s name was Obi-Wan!” he continued to yell. “He was a great man, but you aren’t! You don’t deserve to even speak his name!”_

_“Oh, is the young Jedi losing his calm center?” Benjamen goaded. “How disappointed your father wou…”_

_His sentence was cut off as the vibro-blade pierced his chest. His shocked eyes met Tristan’s glowing yellow ones as his hands grasped at his wound._

_“You…”_

_Tristan smiled evilly. “Yes, Uncle. I killed you. You don’t deserve to live. You’re a despicable human being who only brings misery to those around you. I’ve cleansed this galaxy of your presence forever. You can die knowing that I hate you with everything inside me, with everything that I am.”_

_His breaths coming further apart as he collapsed, Benjamen looked up at the young man that was his nephew and saw pure evil staring back. His eyes closed slowly, but he saw Tristan walking towards him and felt it when he pulled the vibro-blade from his chest._

_“You…wo…won’t get…away…with…th…this,” Benjamen choked out, blood dripping from his mouth now._

_Tristan wiped the blade on Benjamen’s shirt and smiled. “I’m a Jedi. Of course I’ll get away with it, Uncle. You’re just another dead man, but I’m going to be a hero like my father. Goodbye.”_

_Tristan sprinted from the scene of the crime undetected while Benjamen lay there bleeding to death. As his life-force ebbed away and finally faded, Tristan carefully entered the diner once more and sat down. He finished his meal just as Dex came over._

_“Sure been good talking with you, Tris,” he said. “You should come down here more often and chat for a few hours.”_

_Tristan grinned. “Sure thing, Dex. I had a great time tonight.”_

 

/

 

Tristan woke up covered in sweat.

 

“It actually worked,” he whispered into the empty room. “I got away with murder.”

 

He lay back down and closed his eyes, once again drifting into sleep with his victory held tightly in his heart.

 

/

 

“Are you sure this is a wise course of action, Father?” Mara asked her father, Darex.

 

The man smiled at his daughter. “Of course I’m sure. You’re grandfather’s fatal mistake was in trying to ruin the Jedi Order, to destroy them completely. I don’t want to destroy them, I want to change them. I want them to become my dark warriors.”

 

“Is that even possible? As you said, Grandfather made mistakes. What if you make them too?”

 

Darex smiled at his seventeen-year-old daughter. “I won’t. Palpatine chose to reveal himself to Anakin Skywalker too soon. We won’t reveal ourselves until Tristan Kenobi is firmly within our grasp. I won’t make my father’s mistakes.”

 

Mara smiled, though she was becoming increasingly unsure of her father’s plans. For now, she’d watch him carefully and decide what to do if he became as unstable as her grandfather had so many years before.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

 

/

 

Tristan smiled to himself as he read a communiqué he’d received from Riema. He had presented to her his idea of moving to the settlement on Dantooine to be close to the Jedi Temple that had been established. She had readily agreed that it was a good idea, but was unsure how to gain permission from her clan.

 

Tristan himself was unsure of how to proceed. He knew he couldn’t go to Anakin for help, and that left him few options. He wished Anakin was more supportive of his feelings for Riema and trusted his belief that she was not dangerous. It would make things much easier.

 

/

 

Anakin was walking slowly though the Room of a Thousand Fountains, his mind awash in turmoil. He knew Tristan was hiding something from him but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The young man had become quiet since the murder of Benjamen Kenobi and Anakin was concerned.

 

“Anakin, are you okay?”

 

He turned and smiled gently when he saw Barriss Offee. “Yes, I’m…fine.”

 

Barriss moved to sit on a nearby bench. “Forgive me, but you don’t seem fine.”

 

Anakin chuckled. Barriss had always been perceptive. He sat down next to her and sighed deeply, but remained otherwise silent.

 

Barriss cleared her throat. “Do you want to discuss it?”

 

Anakin looked at her. She’d recently taken her second Padawan Learner and he knew she’d understand after her own difficulties with her first student.

 

“It’s Tristan,” he started. “Ever since Benjamen Kenobi was found murdered and we were questioned by the Coruscant Security authorities, he’s been…sullen, quiet, withdrawn and…”

 

“…and you’re worried about him,” she finished.

 

Anakin nodded. “Yes, of course. This isn’t like Tristan at all. He won’t talk to me. Every time I ask him what is bothering him, he tells me he’s fine.”

 

“Perhaps a change of scenery would do him some good,” she suggested. “I understand that Luke is on Dantooine with Master Olin along with Padawan Jade and Master Shaak-Ti. Perhaps Tristan could do with a visit.”

 

Anakin mulled over that idea. They hadn’t been away from the Temple since their return from Dantooine nearly one month before and the entire Benjamen Kenobi debacle had come almost immediately thereafter.

 

Anakin smiled. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we could both do with a change of scenery. Thank you.”

 

Barriss nodded regally. “Glad to be of service. May the Force be with you, Anakin.”

 

Anakin remained sitting long after Barriss had left. He slid to the stone floor and crossed his legs, arms resting easily on his thighs. He closed his eyes and fell easily into a light meditation. As he delved deeper into the serenity of the Force, he searched for further guidance regarding his apprentice.

 

/

 

**Private Senate Office of Darex Jade**

 

/

 

Senator Jade’s comm alerted him to an incoming call from Arkania. After donning his black robe and shielding his face, he pressed the necessary access code; the face of Governor Verbeke of Arkania appeared on his screen.

 

“Governor, what news do you have?”

 

Verbeke was seated behind a desk. “We’ve discovered something…interesting among the clonetroopers we have here. The microcircuits we were going to implant may be unnecessary.”

 

Darex was intrigued. “Why is that, Governor?”

 

Verbeke allowed himself a smile. “One of our scientists discovered a code buried deep in the clones’ behavioral programming. In addition to their altered genetic codes which created their accelerated growth, muscle strength, coordination, higher reasoning skills...”

 

“Get to the point, Governor,” Darex snapped.

 

“Yes, of course,” Verbeke obeyed. “As you know, the clones were created on Kamino, but their creators didn’t have control of them once their production was complete. The Jedi Master Yoda took control of them just prior to the Battle of Geonosis. After which time they were conscripted into the Republic military and placed under the ultimate control of Chancellor Palpatine once he was given emergency powers.”

 

Darex knew all of that information. He wanted Verbeke to tell him something he didn’t know.

 

“Well, somewhere during the process, when their behavior mechanisms were being written into their genetic code, someone buried a…a failsafe order I suppose you could call it.”

 

Jade frowned. “What kind of failsafe? What is its function?”

 

“It appears to be an override command,” he stated. “Our scientists believe that this one order would supersede all others the clones were given.”

 

Darex was intrigued now. “Do you know what the order actually does?”

 

Verbeke smiled. “Yes, we do.”

 

Darex waited.

 

“The very last order they were programmed with took precedent over all others,” he explained. “All indications are that the order involves the…”

 

Darex pounded his hand on his desk, tired of waiting. “The what!”

 

Verbeke grinned. “The destruction of the Jedi Order.”

 

/

 

Tristan was studying when Anakin entered his room. He knew Tristan had felt his approach and knew he was watching him, but he didn’t speak.

 

“Can we talk?” Anakin finally asked.

 

Tristan turned in his chair and nodded.

 

Anakin sat down on the bed and pinned his apprentice with his icy blue stare. He wanted his full focus.

 

“You’ve been awfully quiet lately,” he began. “I want to know why.”

 

Tristan knew he couldn’t tell Anakin the truth; not about Benjamen and not about Riema. So, as was becoming his custom, he lied.

 

“I know, Master,” he said. “I’ve just been…I didn’t think Benjamen’s death would affect me. I didn’t want it to and I convinced myself that it hadn’t.”

 

Anakin was puzzled. “You mean to tell me all of these changes in your behavior have been due to his death?”

 

Tristan nodded. “I didn’t want to tell you, Master. You seemed…I know you weren’t upset that he was gone, whether you thought he _deserved_ what happened to him or not. I thought I felt the same as well, but…”

 

“But?” Anakin prodded.

 

Tristan sniffled a bit. “But the more I thought about it, the more…maybe I should have given him a chance. That was all he wanted. Now he’s gone and I’ll never know.”

 

Anakin frowned. He felt like he should have known that Tristan would have problems dealing with Benjamen’s death despite his insistence that he was fine. Like it or not, Benjamen was a part of Tristan’s family and some part of him must have longed to know the man. Anakin couldn’t help but feel that his own attitude towards Benjamen had influenced Tristan without the young man being able to form his own opinion.

 

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” Anakin told the young man.

 

“I didn’t know what to say, Master,” Tristan stated. “I didn’t expect to feel that way.”

 

He reached out and rested his hand on Tristan’s knee. “I…I think my feelings towards Benjamen have colored your own and for that, I am sorry. I should not have allowed my personal feelings to influence your decisions.”

 

Tristan nodded. He had led Anakin where he wanted him, now he had to press the issue.

 

“Master, what about…about Riema?” he asked softly.

 

Anakin’s shoulders tightened. “What about her?”

 

Tristan’s eyes lowered to stare at something on the floor only he could see. “I just wondered if…you want your personal feelings about her to influence my decision. Because you feel she’s dangerous?”

 

Anakin cleared his throat. Obi-Wan had always been good at throwing Anakin’s words back at him. All these years, and _now_ he discovers that Tristan shares that ability.

 

“I want you to make an _informed_ decision, Tris,” Anakin told him. “The Nightsisters are not ones to take lightly, Padawan, and they _are_ dangerous. I know Riema is young and she’s not fully indoctrinated as of yet, but she soon will be, and what happens then? When the grip of the dark arts is too powerful for her to resist as her heritage takes over? Where does that leave you, the Jedi Knight who has sworn to uphold peace and justice and denounce the dark side?”

 

“I don’t know!” Tristan cried out. “I just want…”

 

Anakin was sympathetic, but he also knew he had to make certain that his young apprentice understood the magnitude of his decisions, especially as he approached knighthood.

 

“I know I ordered you to stop pursuing…whatever was developing between the two of you, but I want you to know that the decision is ultimately yours to make,” Anakin told him. “Please, whatever your decision, will you do one thing for me?”

 

Tristan nodded.

 

“Talk to me,” Anakin pleaded. “When I was facing the most difficult times in my life, I didn’t talk to Obi-Wan and I should have. I realized that after it was already too late.”

 

“I promise, Master,” Tristan agreed softly. “I promise.”

 

Anakin smiled as he stood to leave. He had only taken a few steps when he remembered the other reason he came to Tristan’s room.

 

“Oh, my initial motivation in coming in here was to tell you to get ready for a mission,” he said happily.

 

Tristan brightened as well. “Where are we going?”

 

“Dantooine.”

 

/

 

**Dantooine**

 

/

 

Mara Jade had managed to escape her master and was walking along the river situated not far from the Temple. She liked Dantooine. It was quiet; lacked the hustle and bustle of Coruscant. Her thoughts were her own and she felt as though things became clearer when she was undisturbed.

 

“Hi, Mara,” Luke’s voice broke her reverie.

 

Mara was startled to suddenly see Luke standing before her. She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t even felt his presence.

 

When she looked up, she could not stop her green eyes from widening. There was Luke Skywalker, standing before her in nothing but his swimming shorts. His dirty blonde hair was soaked and standing on end and small droplets of water cascaded down his chest and across his defined abdomen.

 

 _Was he really only fifteen years old?_ Mara thought to herself.

 

“Mara, are you okay?” Luke asked, concerned at her silence and in the way she was staring at him.

 

Shaking herself awake, she nodded. “I’m fine, Skywalker. What are you doing out here?”

 

Luke shook his head sending water flying everywhere, including onto Mara’s perturbed face.

 

Luke chuckled. “I was swimming, obviously. Master Olin gave me the afternoon off to do as I wished. I wished to swim.”

 

Mara smirked. She had decided long ago when they were children that she would never know anyone as off-beat as Luke Skywalker. He was the dreamer and she was the cynic.

 

“Are you finished?”

 

Luke smiled. “Yep. Where were you headed?”

 

“Nowhere,” Mara informed him. “I just wanted to take a walk.”

 

Luke shyly reached out and grasped her hand in his. “Want some company?”

 

Mara could swear that her heart skipped a beat when she felt her fingers intertwine with Luke’s.

 

“Sure,” she agreed.

 

Luke quickly grabbed his shirt and slipped it over his head. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

 

Surprising both of them, Mara did not let go of his hand in hers as they set out on their walk.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

 

/

 

“You mean to tell me the clones are the key to…to _destroying_ the Jedi?” Darex asked in disbelief.

 

Verbeke nodded in the affirmative. “We’ve begun deep hypnosis with a few of the clones we have here. Whatever the override order is, it was implanted as a deep hypnotic suggestion. If we hit upon the correct trigger word or phrase, we can enact the order.”

 

That gave Darex pause. His initial plan hadn’t been to destroy the Jedi. He’d seen that ambitious goal as the folly that had ultimately ended his father’s attempt to rule the galaxy. His obsession with Anakin Skywalker had been his final undoing.

 

“Keep working on it,” Darex instructed. “If you find the trigger inform me immediately. Do _not_ use it.”

 

Verbeke nodded his understanding and the two men ended the communication.

 

/

 

**Four Days Later**

**Dantooine**

**Jedi Temple**

 

/

 

Anakin was on the comm letting Padme know they had arrived safely while Tristan was standing on the terrace off the common room of their shared quarters.

 

The view of Dantooine from the eighth floor was amazing. Tristan could see the river that ran so close to the temple. Some of the Dathomiri children were playing under the trees with their teachers. Seeing them made him think of Riema.

 

“Tristan!”

 

Tristan looked down from the terrace and saw Luke Skywalker waving at him from the ground.

 

“Jump down!”

 

Tristan laughed. Jumping from a terrace eight stories above the ground was something Arik Skywalker would do. Tristan wasn’t so certain it was the best idea.

 

“Well, go on,” Anakin said from behind Tristan. “Luke sounds insistent.”

 

Tristan shook his head. “I think I’ll walk down.”

 

Anakin laughed as he stepped further out onto the terrace. He looked down and waved at his son, then looked over at his apprentice. “Suit yourself.”

 

With that, Tristan watched in amazement as Anakin took a leap over the side of the terrace and landed perfectly next to Luke. Both Skywalkers then looked up at Tristan, almost daring him to jump.

 

Tristan took a deep breath, one last look down and then he jumped.

 

“Good job, Padawan,” Anakin told him when his feet touched the ground.

 

“Am I dead?”

 

Luke laughed. “No, Tris, you’re alive.”

 

“Oh, thank the Force,” Tristan whispered to himself.

 

Anakin patted Tristan on the back. “You two boys go find something to do.”

 

“Where are you going, Master?”

 

“To visit an old…friend.”

 

/

 

Anakin watched from the doorway of one of the training rooms as Jedi Master Ferus Olin work through a very complicated battle kata. Anakin was impressed as he surveyed the fluid movements and precision foot placement Ferus displayed. He’d become a very capable and powerful Jedi over the years.

 

“Trying to learn something, Skywalker?”

 

Anakin gave a friendly smirk. “There certainly isn’t anything _you_ could teach _me_ , Olin.”

 

Ferus chuckled as he placed his lightsaber on a nearby bench and grabbed his towel. After quickly wiping his brow, he held out his hand.

 

“It’s been a long time, Anakin,” Ferus said as the two shook hands. “What brings you to Dantooine?”

 

Anakin shrugged. “I thought Tristan could use a vacation. He’s been…tense.”

 

Ferus smiled slightly. “He reminds me so much of Master Tachi; of them _both_ really. I suppose that’s why…why I’ve stayed away over the years.”

 

Anakin nodded in understanding. “Sometimes when I look at him…he’ll move a certain way or say something that…it’s like having Obi-Wan back. Other times…”

 

“What?”

 

Anakin chuckled. “Other times it’s like he’s the embodiment of the galaxy punishing me for all of the poodoo I put Obi-Wan through over the years I was his apprentice.”

 

Ferus laughed out loud at that. “On occasion I’ve thought that I’ve never taken an official apprentice for that very reason. I cannot imagine having to go through everything I put Master Tachi through.”

 

Both men were quiet for a few moments as memories of their mentors flooded their minds. Days gone by which had been filled with laughter and moments of tears and disappointment were recalled with perfect clarity. Each man was lost in the fog of remembrance until finally Anakin spoke.

 

“I miss them.”

 

Ferus’ dark brown eyes met Anakin’s blue. “I miss them, too. I never…I suppose when you’re a child, you never imagine that the people who raise you will ever be gone. I assumed she’d…silly, really. People die all the time.”

 

Anakin shook his head. “I never told you how Obi-Wan died, did I?”

 

Ferus shook his head. He knew of course; had read the mission report in the Archives. He’d always assumed that it was too painful for the younger man to speak about.

 

“I read the mission report you filed,” Ferus told him. “I know it’s been a long time and I’m sure you know this already, but…you couldn’t have stopped what happened that day.”

 

Anakin gave a small smile. “I know. The hardest thing was that I knew it then, too. I cried and screamed at the top of my lungs that if I had been with him I could have done something, but…it wouldn’t have mattered. He was just…meant to go that day.”

 

“So was Siri,” Ferus offered. “I think she was ready. She wanted to be with him. The hardest part for me was that it felt like she wanted to go to be with Obi-Wan more than she wanted to stay with Tristan. I had…I had a difficult time accepting that.”

 

Anakin smirked. “You didn’t trust me with him?”

 

Ferus shook his head. “No, that actually wasn’t it. You’d more than proven yourself by that time. It was…it was that kind of love that I just didn’t understand. I couldn’t fathom it then.”

 

Anakin noticed his choice of words. “You can now?”

 

Ferus reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a holo and handed it to Anakin.

 

Anakin smiled at the holo of a woman seated on a grassy hill with two children seated beside her. One was a girl of about five with long dark hair and bright green eyes. The other was a boy, perhaps three with the same blonde hair as his mother but with Ferus’ dark eyes.

 

Ferus smiled. “That is my family. Yashen and I were married six years ago on her homeworld. Our daughter, Tylana was born the following year. She just turned five.”

 

“The boy?”

 

Ferus grinned. “Kyal. He’ll be three soon. He’s rambunctious and outgoing and…everything I wasn’t at that age.”

 

Anakin handed the holo back. “You have a beautiful family, Ferus.”

 

“So do you,” he returned. “Luke is doing very well.”

 

“How did my son end up here with you anyway?” Anakin questioned.

 

“Master Yoda asked me to come and assess the progress of the children here and he instructed me to bring Luke along,” Ferus explained. “I suspect for the same reason you’re here with Tristan.”

 

While the two continued their talk, Tristan and Luke had entered the training room next door.

 

/

 

“Ready?”

 

Luke nodded. Each young man stepped to the center of the room and bowed respectfully. They circled one another for several moments before Luke suddenly ignited his saber and jumped at Tristan.

 

Tristan ignited his blue blade just in time to block Luke. Back and forth they went, blades slicing and twirling through the air. Both participants danced through the air, neither really trying to win the match.

 

“You’ve gotten really good,” Tristan pointed out.

 

Luke smiled as he propelled himself into the air and landed behind Tristan. Before he could react Tristan felt the hot sting of Luke’s blade near the back of his neck.

 

“Shavit!” Tristan exclaimed; untamed anger flowing through his heated veins.

 

He spun on his heels and Luke was taken aback by what he saw. Tristan’s normally clear eyes had taken on a yellowish hew around his pupils. His skin was ashen.

 

“Tris, are you okay?” Luke asked timidly. “Tristan!?”

 

Luke’s yelling broke the spell that fury had cast over Tristan. He blinked rapidly and when Luke again met his eyes, they were back to the original blue-gray shade they’d always been.

 

“Sorry, I…blacked out for a second,” Tristan told the boy.

 

Luke frowned. He’d never seen anything close to what he’d just witnessed.

 

“Your eyes were…”

 

Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “They were what?”

 

“Yellow,” Luke answered. “They were yellow.”

 

Tristan closed his eyes. His anger was still simmering beneath the surface and he knew he had to get away from Luke before the boy became a problem.

 

“I’m going outside,” Tristan announced as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt and walked out of the training room, not even giving Luke a chance to speak again.

 

Luke watched him go; all the while knowing that his pseudo older brother hadn’t just gotten a bit angry; he’d touched the dark side.

 

/

 

Anakin came away from his chat with Ferus feeling for the first time like they might actually have a friendship, rather than the friendly acquaintances they’d been for so many years.

 

“Dad,” Luke called when he saw his father walking down a passageway.

 

Anakin smiled. “Luke, my boy, I’m just on my way to the hangar bay to tinker with some of the new speeders that the cargo ship brought in this morning. Want to come along and help?”

 

Luke loved to work on anything mechanical and he loved spending time with his father. So when Anakin offered, telling him about Tristan was the furthest thing from his mind.

 

“Sure,” Luke replied and fell in step with Anakin.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Luke asked after a moment.

 

“Of course you can.”

 

They entered the hangar bay and Anakin directed Luke to the speeder they would be fixing. Luke climbed inside and took a deep breath.

 

“What’s on your mind, Son?”

 

“Mara Jade,” the boy answered with a deep sigh.

 

Anakin was careful not to let his son see his smile. “What about Mara Jade?”

 

“How did…how did you know you…that you loved Mom?”

 

Anakin twirled the hydrospanner in his hands as he answered. “Seeing her made my heart beat faster. I was only nine years old at the time but I knew the moment I saw her and my heart started pounding in my chest.”

 

Luke smiled a little. “My heart does that when I see Mara.”

 

Anakin looked at Luke. “How does she feel about you?”

 

Luke shrugged. “We took a walk the other day. I grabbed her hand and she didn’t let go. I guess she likes me too.”

 

Anakin chuckled. “Well, sounds like a possibility to me. Listen, if you want to know if she likes you all you have to do is ask her. It’s not that hard.”

 

Luke pondered that advice. “Thanks, Dad.”

 

Anakin patted his son on the back. “Now, help me with this speeder.”

 

They worked in tandem and within several hours they had all of the new speeders in perfect working order.

 

/

 

Mara spotted Tristan skipping rocks on the bank of the river and she could feel the tension radiating off of him. She knew if she was going to go along with her father’s plan, now was the time to begin.

 

She took a deep breath and headed towards him.

 

“Kenobi,” she acknowledged as she stepped beside him.

 

Tristan looked over at her. “Jade.”

 

They had never been friends; neither pretended otherwise.

 

“What has you brooding?”

 

Tristan nearly growled at her. “I am _not_ brooding.”

 

Mara chuckled. “Okay, you’re not brooding. However, the anger is radiating off of you. If I can feel it, then I’m sure…”

 

Tristan threw the rock in his hand and turned to face Mara. She could see he was reaching a breaking point. For the first time, she thought maybe her father was right. Maybe Kenobi could be turned; and much easier than she had suspected.

 

“What do you want?” he demanded.

 

Mara moved a bit away before she spoke. “I just came out here to think. I saw you and thought you might…need to talk.”

 

Tristan scoffed. “Why would I talk with you?”

 

Mara shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to talk with someone who knows how you’re feeling.”

 

“What would you know about my feelings?”

 

“I know you’re angry about something,” she started. “I know how that feels. I get angry all the time.”

 

Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “What have you to be angry about?”

 

Mara shrugged as she began walking along the river. “My master, for one; she’s always holding me back. She never let me express my opinion. She never…”

 

Tristan held up his hand when he sensed Mara’s emotions running away with her.

 

“Why do you stay?”

 

“What kind of question is that!” she demanded.

 

Tristan sat down and crossed his legs. His own temper had abated a bit while Mara’s was still flaring. “I just mean that you have a father, so if you hate the Jedi so much, why do you stay? You could go home to him and live a normal life.”

 

Mara snorted as she sat down. “A normal life? You think I like my father more than I like the Jedi? Well, I don’t. I _hate_ them both.”

 

“You shouldn’t hate,” Tristan admonished which made Mara laugh out loud.

 

“You hate,” she told him. “I know how you felt about your uncle. You hated him and you weren’t sorry he was murdered.”

 

Tristan immediately flashed back to the murder of his uncle. The murder _he_ had committed.

 

“I hate him to this day,” Tristan sneered. “I’m _glad_ he’s dead.”

 

Mara smirked. “That’s okay, you know? Being angry is normal. I don’t think the Jedi will ever really understand.”

 

Tristan agreed with that. As a child, he’d believed that Anakin would understand anything, but now…

 

“Master Shaak-Ti has even forbidden me from…” Mara trailed off.

 

“From what?”

 

“From…seeing Luke and…being…”

 

Tristan knew what she was trying to say. “Master Anakin forbade me from…well, from the same thing.”

 

Mara nodded. “Well, you’re the good little Padawan, so I’m sure…”

 

Tristan stood and walked to the edge of the river. The swirl of the raging water matched his emotions as his thoughts turned to Riema.

 

“I just want to be with her,” he whispered softly; so softly Mara almost didn’t hear him.

 

“Who?” she questioned as she again came to stand beside him.

 

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Her name is…is Riema. She’s…I met her when Master Anakin and I were sent to Dathomir to bring these children here.”

 

Mara was surprised. “So she’s a Dathomiri witch?”

 

His eyes blazed. “She is _not_ a witch!”

 

Mara smiled internally. She’d found Tristan’s trigger.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

 

/

 

**Three Weeks Later**

**Arkania**

 

/

 

Senator Darex Jade quickly made his way to the office of Governor Verbeke. The governor had contacted him six days earlier with the information that the trigger to the mysterious order encoded into the clones had been discovered and was ready for use. He’d been so excited by the news, he’d booked transport to Arkania immediately.

 

Darex didn’t bother knocking on Verbeke’s door. With his cowl in place, he opened the door and stormed into the office.

 

Verbeke startled and gasped when he saw the hooded figure in his office. “Who…who are you?”

 

Darex chuckled to himself. “Come now, Governor, surely you recognize my voice.”

 

Verbeke’s eyes widened. “You’re…you’re him.”

 

Darex moved further into the room and sat down across from Verbeke. He motioned for the man to sit down himself.

 

“I received your message and felt the need to come see for myself the research you have been doing,” Darex told him. “I want to know _everything_.”

 

Verbeke swallowed heavily before nodding.

 

/

 

**Same Time**

**Dantooine**

**Jedi Temple**

 

/

 

Luke was all smiles as he stood in the mess hall staring at a lifeday cake which had been presented to him by his father and Ferus Olin.

 

“Happy Lifeday, Son,” Anakin chirped happily.

 

Luke closed his eyes, made a wish and then blew out the sixteen candles that decorated the top of the cake.

 

“Thanks Dad, Master Olin,” he acknowledged the men.

 

Anakin draped his arm around Luke’s shoulders and smiled fondly. “I remember my sixteenth lifeday.”

 

Ferus chuckled beside them. “So do I.”

 

Luke looked at them with interest. “What happened?”

 

Anakin and Ferus shared a look. Anakin sighed, and then began his tale.

 

“Well, Obi-Wan woke me up early that morning,” Anakin started. “He told me had a big surprise for my lifeday. I crawled out of bed and made my way into our common room and when I got there…”

 

Ferus snickered. “Come on, finish the story.”

 

“There was a huge cake in the middle of the room,” Anakin continued. “I was surprised, of course, and happy to have all that cake. But then…”

 

Ferus burst out laughing. “The Master Yoda jumped out from inside the cake and Anakin…Ana…Anakin was so startled that he…he jumped forward right into the cake!”

 

Luke let loose a laugh, as did Tristan as he entered the room, having heard the story. Mara, standing off to one side, also laughed at the picture of Anakin Skywalker face down in a cake.

 

Anakin scowled at Ferus. “Yes, I…I ended up face first in the cake. Obi-Wan laughed as hard as I’d ever seen him laugh.”

 

“That was also the day you were named a senior Padawan Learner,” Ferus reminded him.

 

Anakin nodded. “I remember.”

 

He shook off the memories of his own teacher and turned to his son. “So, what are your plans for the day, Luke?”

 

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. Sparring with Master Olin, I suppose.”

 

Ferus inclined his head. “If you wish; it’s your day. You can choose anything you want.”

 

Luke’s eyes drifted to Mara. He had seen her place a gift for him on the table behind the cake. He was eager to open it.

 

Anakin didn’t miss the look shared between his son and Mara. He had to admit, his son had wonderful taste in women. Mara, at almost eighteen years old, was becoming quite the beauty. Her flame-red hair paired well with her expressive, fiery emerald eyes and pale skin tone.

 

“Listen, why don’t the three of you head outside, get some fresh air, go exploring,” Anakin said to Luke, Mara and Tristan.

 

Tristan cleared his throat. After his conversation weeks earlier with Mara, the last thing he wanted to do was spend more time with her.

 

“Actually Master, if you’re free, can we spar?” he asked Anakin. “I’d like to practice.”

 

Anakin brightened. “Of course we can. Give me a few moments and I’ll meet you in one of the training rooms. I need to place a call to Leia.”

 

Tristan nodded. He then turned to Luke and pulled a small wrapped box out of his robe and handed it to him. “Happy lifeday, little brother.”

 

Luke smiled. “Thanks. Dad, when you reach Leia, tell her happy lifeday for me.”

 

Everyone dispersed; everyone except for Luke and Mara.

 

“Are you going to open your gift?” she asked as she approached him.

 

Luke nodded as he reached for her gift. He tore the paper off and gave her a very puzzled look. It was a book entitled _Repair Guide to Vaporators_.

 

“What is this for?”

 

Mara shrugged. “It’s in case you ever end up marooned on Tatooine. Lots of moisture farms there.”

 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome,” she returned, while also handing him a much small package. “Here’s your real gift.”

 

Luke was amazed when he open the small package and found a necklace with two crystals fused into one; colored a light blue and green.

 

“Mara, this is…”

 

He was interrupted by her lips pressing against his in a tender kiss. When they pulled apart, Luke smiled and took her hand in his.

 

“Thank you. I love it.”

 

Mara returned his smile before turning and leaving the room. Luke watched her go. He held the necklace tightly for a few moments before slipping it over his head where it came to rest against his heart.

 

/

 

**Coruscant**

**Skywalker Residence**

/

 

Leia had just opened her last gift when the comm call came in. She and Padme activated it both smiled brightly when they saw Anakin’s face.

 

“Daddy, I’m so glad to see you,” Leia told him.

 

“ _I wish I could be there with you, Princess,”_ he told his only daughter. _“Luke says to tell you happy lifeday.”_

 

He and Leia spoke for several long moments before she left the room and Anakin and Padme were left to speak alone.

 

“I miss you, Ani,” Padme sighed.

 

 _“I miss you to, Angel,_ ” he replied. _“Tristan and I won’t be here too much longer. I spoke with Master Yoda yesterday and the Council wants us back soon.”_

 

Surprising him, Padme nodded. “I know. Things here have gotten…interesting.”

 

Anakin frowned. _“How so?”_

 

“There have been rumblings in the Senate about the separatist movement being revived on some worlds,” she revealed. “Arik and Master Garen were sent out a week ago to investigate some of those rumblings on Arkania.”

 

Anakin took a deep breath. _”What about the upcoming elections? Are you worried?_ ”

 

Padme smiled. “No. There were several minor threats against myself and Senator Jade but the parties responsible have already been apprehended.”

 

Anakin was immediately worried about his wife. He clearly remembered the last time someone had threatened her life. One­ of her most loyal decoys and bodyguards, Corde, was murdered by a bomb blast on a landing pad. He wasn’t about to let it happen again.

 

 _”Tristan and I are coming home,”_ he stated. _”We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”_

 

Padme chuckled softly. “You don’t have to do that, Anakin. I’m fine and I’ll _be_ fine until you get back.”

 

Anakin knew she was right. He had to trust that she was being protected by the Senate guards assigned to every senator. But he didn’t have to like it.

 

 _”Okay, you’re right,”_ he admitted. _”Just promise me that you will be careful and if anything happens or you feel unsafe, you’ll contact the Temple.”_

 

Padme promised. “I love you.”

 

Anakin reached out and touched the screen with his palm. “ _I love you too.”_

 

/

 

**Arkania**

 

/

 

Verbeke led Darex into the nearby factory where all of the scientific research had been taking place. He then led him into a holding cell where one of the clones was strapped to a table. He appeared to be unconscious, but he was merely mildly sedated. He would soon be placed in a hypnotic state and questioned.

 

“Our scientists have found a miniscule microchip inserted into the center of the brains of each clone,” Verbeke explained. “The information on the chip contains every order the clones were to follow. The simple ones were related to obeying orders from their superiors, getting proper rest so as to perform their duties at maximum function. But the last one on the microchip is encoded as _Order 66_. We’re not completely certain what it does if given, but we have a pretty good idea.”

 

“Which is?” Darex questioned.

 

“All of the clones were under the command of the Jedi, for the most part,” Verbeke stated. “What little information we’ve been able to obtain regarding the death of Chancellor Palpatine led us to believe that he might actually have been [i]involved[/i] with the plot to destroy the Jedi, rather than just being the so-called scapegoat we were all told he was.”

 

“How does that relate to this mysterious order these clones have been programmed to follow?” Darex asked, not even hinting at his relation to Palpatine.

 

“Also written into the instructions on the chip are the words _post-Order 66 you will obey only the Chancellor of the Republic_ ,” he said. “It seems that Chancellor Palpatine was the creator, or at least the one who made certain these clones could be controlled, and only by him, once the last order was carried out.”

 

Darex nodded. “Well, let’s find out exactly what this order does. Issue the order to this clone.”

 

Verbeke motioned to the scientist standing near the clone. “Do it.”

 

The scientist, a middle-aged man with slightly graying hair and a sturdy build stepped up to the clone.

 

“CC-1138, this is Doctor Kumari, I want you to execute…Order 66.”

 

The clones’ eyes snapped open. “It will be done, my lord.”

 

Verbeke, Darex and the two scientists in the room were speechless. The clone began trying to break the restraints which held him down and he tried reaching for a weapon he didn’t have.

 

Darex stepped a bit closer to him. “CC-1138, what is Order 66? What are you instructed to do with this order?”

 

CC-1138, nicknamed Bacara, turned his gaze to Darex. “Order 66: in the event of Jedi officers acting against the interests of the Republic, and after receiving specific orders verified as coming directly from the Supreme Commander, Grand Army of the Republic commanders will remove those officers by lethal force, and command of the Grand Army of the Republic will revert to the Supreme Commander until a new command structure can be established.”

 

Darex was floored. Verbeke was right. It was an order that would destroy the Jedi. “CC-1138, why wasn’t Order 66 ever enacted during the war?”

 

“The Supreme Commander of the GAR was eliminated before the order became necessary,” the clone answered. “The Jedi were never deemed to have been acting against the interests of the Republic.”

 

“This man just gave you Order 66,” Darex pointed out. “You tried to break free from your restraints. Are you going to carry out Order 66?”

 

The clone stared at him. “Order 66 must be followed once given.”

 

Darex smirked. So, the order could come from anyone. His father had counted on being the only one who knew of its existence. Well, that had certainly changed.

 

Verbeke had begun moving closer as well when Darex reached down to the blaster he kept at his side and fired directly at the clone, killing him instantly.

 

/

 

**Dantooine**

 

/

 

Anakin and Tristan had been sparring for just over twenty minutes when Anakin lost his concentration and Tristan flipped over his head and landed behind him. The next thing Anakin knew, he felt the hot sting of Tristan’s blade near his ear.

 

“Kill point, Master,” Tristan happily said. “I win.”

 

Anakin turned around and smiled at his twenty-year old apprentice. “Yes, you did. Well done, Tris, very well done.”

 

Tristan beamed. Anakin watched the young man. He knew Tristan had become a capable young Jedi. He was very proficient in lightsaber combat. Between himself and the Temple battlemaster, Tristan had become the most accomplished swordsman in the padawan ranks, and he rivaled some of the knights and masters as well.

 

Meditation came easily to Tristan now. He’d had trouble as a child quieting his mind, but as he’d grown in strength and power, it became easier for him. His shielding skills matched Anakin’s own. Learning from the Chosen One had sharpened his mental shields beyond most others in the Temple.

 

“I’m very proud of you,” he told the young man. “I think…”

 

Tristan sat down on a bench and toweled off. “What, Master?”

 

Anakin took a seat next to his apprentice and made his decision. “I think when we get back to Coruscant; I’m going to…I’m going to nominate you for the Trials.”

 

/

 

**Arkania**

 

/

 

“You…you killed him,” Verbeke stuttered.

 

Darex didn’t utter a word, but simply turned to the scientists and cut each of them down as well. Verbeke screamed and tried to run from the room before a blaster bolt caught him in the back on his shoulder. He fell to the floor; wounded, but alive.

 

Darex holstered his blaster and swept from the room.

 

/

 

“Did you hear that, Master?” Arik asked Garen as they made their way towards Governor Verbeke’s office. “It sounded like blaster-fire.”

 

Garen had heard it and he feared Arik was right. “Be ready for anything, and stay close to me. Remember your training; defense, never attack.”

 

“Yes, Master,” Arik responded.

 

They slowly entered the building where Verbeke’s office was located. His assistant told them he’d left over an hour before, but should have been back.

 

“Do you know where he went?”

 

“He left here with a man wearing a hood,” the assistant spoke. “I didn’t see his face. But, the Governor said they were going to the Scientific Research Factory. It’s the building next door.”

 

Garen thanked and led Arik back outside. They stepped into the sunshine just in time to see the hooded man running towards a speeder parked not too far away.

 

The two Jedi took off after him, Garen leading and Arik trailing behind.

 

“Stop!” Garen called out, getting the man’s attention.

 

Darex grabbed his blaster and began firing at the two Jedi. Garen was able to block three of the shots, but the forth got past him and he heard Arik scream behind him. He stopped running and turned to see his young apprentice on the ground, a blaster burn visible on his abdomen.

 

“Mas…Master it…it hurts,” Arik choked out, blood seeping across his clothing.

 

Garen clipped his lightsaber to his belt and knelt down, his hands going to cover Arik’s wound. “It’s going to be okay, Padawan, I promise.”

 

“I’m…I’m co-cold,” he muttered.

 

Garen closed his eyes and tried to remember his first aide training. He sent as much healing energy into Arik as he could, and then produced several bacta patches from his utility belt. He pressed them to the wound and took a deep breath.

 

Verbeke’s assistant and other citizens ran outside and saw Garen knelt over Arik’s form. Several of them came over to help.

 

“He needs to get to a medical facility,” Garen calmly told them.

 

A tall dark-haired man with a stately beard pointed across the courtyard. “My speeder is over there. I can take you both.”

 

Garen nodded. He leaned down and scooped Arik up in his arms and followed the man, all the while praying to the Force not to take his apprentice from him.

 

/

 

Darex was shaking by the time he reached his ship in the spaceport. He’d recognized the young Jedi apprentice he’d shot. He knew if he was ever figured out, Anakin Skywalker would make him suffer for injuring, possibly killing his son.

 

“Pilot, I’m ready to return to Coruscant,” he said. “Now.”

 

The pilot acknowledged his order and the ship was airborne within moments, headed into the blackness of space.

 

While sitting in his quarters, Darex began to contemplate his plans. Destroying the Jedi had been his father’s plan all along, just like Dooku had told Darex many years before, along with the fact that Palpatine was his father.

 

/

 

**_Naboo_ **

**_Years Earlier_ **

 

/

 

_Darex Jade was working in the Registrar’s Office when an older gentleman stepped up to his desk and called his name._

_“Can I help you?”_

_“No, but perhaps I can help you,” the man said. “My name is Gavrem Dooku and I have information you’ve been looking for.”_

_Darex knew he’d heard the name before, but he couldn’t place it. “Yeah, what information is that?”_

_“You’ve been looking for you father,” Dooku told him. “I know who he is, and where he is.”_

_Now Darex was interested. His mother had never told him who his father was, only that she had briefly been married to the man when Darex was conceived, but by the time he was born, she and his father had separated._

_“Can you take me to him?” Darex wanted to know._

_Dooku smiled. “Of course I can.”_

 

/

 

Over the next few days, Dooku had told Darex all about his true father, Darth Sidious and his public personae, Senator Palpatine. He’d been stunned to find out that Naboo’s powerful senator was his father, and that he was Force-sensitive, and that he wanted to destroy the Jedi.

 

Dooku had warned him to stay away from Palpatine, that he wouldn’t hesitate to destroy his own family to get what he wanted, which was the total destruction of the Jedi and domination of the galaxy.

 

Dooku was dead now. At least, Darex assumed he was. He hadn’t even seen the man until a few weeks after the Clone Wars had begun, when Dooku again showed his face and warned Darex to never reveal his relation to Palpatine. Silence and secrecy were the only things which would save him.

 

“If I issue the Order, I may be killing my own daughter,” Darex spoke out loud.

 

There were many things to consider, such as Mara’s place within the Jedi Order. Also, the clones had all been rounded up at the end of the Clone Wars and decommissioned. Darex didn’t even know if getting them back into the Republic military would be possible.

 

For now, he would send Mara a message. He needed an update on Tristan Kenobi. He would save Order 66 for a later discussion with her.

 

/

 

**Dagobah**

 

/

 

He had seen many things in his lifetime. He’d been a Jedi. A Sith. A traitor. A warrior. Now, he was just a very old man living, dying, on a swamp-covered world cloaked in the dark side of the Force.

 

He hadn’t touched the Force in many years, not since his master had been killed by Anakin Skywalker. He’d fled his hiding place and come to Dagobah, resigned to living out his days in squalor. But now, for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt the Force prodding at his mind.

 

Dooku closed his eyes and cautiously reached out. Surprisingly, all he felt was light. There was no darkness. He delved further into the subtle eddies of the Force and let them carry him away as he fell into a deep meditation.

 

/

 

**Dantooine**

 

/

 

Tristan had gone to his quarters after Anakin had told him he would be nominating him for the Trials. He was ecstatic. Taking and passing the Trials meant freedom. He could accept missions on his own, go where he pleased.

 

He was still contemplating his future when his comm chirped an incoming message. He activated it right away and found a recorded communication from Riema.

 

_Tristan,_

_I wanted very much to come to you on Dantooine. I miss you greatly. Mother Truija has forbidden and I must not disobey her rule. I have never wished to hurt you, but I feel I must tell you that our being together will not be possible._

_I do care for you, Tristan, and I wish with all of my heart that we could be together. I will think of you often and of what might have been. I wish you a wonderful life._

_Riema_.

 

Tristan’s breathing increased and his eyes watered. He stood, fists clinched at his side. He angrily wiped at his tears and reached for the closest object he could find and hurled it across the room.

 

/

 

In her own quarters, Mara had just finished reading a message from her father asking of her progress in her mission to thrust Tristan into the grasp of the dark side. She composed her response, shut down the system and went in search of Luke.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

 

/

 

**Six Months Later**

**Coruscant**

 

/

 

Arik Skywalker, now fourteen years old, was in a training room. His lightsaber was activated and he was working against remotes. His defensive skills had improved in the six months since he’d been shot in the abdomen. 

 

He blocked several in a row before shutting down his saber.

 

“Well done, Padawan,” Garen remarked. “You’ve improved greatly.”

 

Arik smiled as he sat down to take a drink of his water. “Thank you, Master. I don’t ever want to be wounded by a blaster again.”

 

Garen understood that feeling. He’d had many flashbacks over the past six months to Arik’s three-week stay in a medical facility on Arkania. He’d nearly died twice. Anakin and Padme had come to stay with their son during his recovery and the four of them had traveled back to Coruscant together once the boy had been released.

 

Now, only a faint scar could be seen on Arik’s abdomen; the only reminder of the day they had almost lost Arik Skywalker.

 

“Come on, we’ve been summoned by the Council,” Garen told him.

 

Arik grinned. “A mission?”  


Garen ruffled Arik’s sweaty hair as they left the training room. “I don’t know, but please do not get your hopes up. You’re not completely healed yet and a mission might be asking a bit too much at this point.”

 

Arik groaned as they walked.

 

 _Always wanting the next adventure_ , Garen thought and chuckled to himself.

 

/

 

As Anakin had stated, when they returned to Coruscant, he had nominated Tristan for the Trials of Knighthood. He’d informed the Council that while Tristan still had much to learn, he was at the point where experience would be the better teacher. There was little else Anakin could teach him.

 

Now, Tristan was in the middle of his Trials in the Jedi Trials Chamber deep within the Temple. He’d been at it for three days. Anakin was worried for his apprentice, but he had confidence that Tristan could handle whatever the Council threw at him.

 

The first of the trials, the Trial of Skill would be Tristan’s easiest. Tristan was highly skilled with a lightsaber and had great command of other physical skills.

 

The Trial of Courage; the Council had already deemed Tristan had passed this trial by displaying courage on many missions with Anakin.

 

The last three trials; Trial of the Flesh, Trial of the Spirit and Trial of Insight would be the true tests for Tristan.

 

While Anakin paced, his comlink chirped. He unclipped it and answered.

 

“Skywalker.”

 

 _”To the Council chambers you will come,”_ Yoda instructed.

 

“Yes, Master,” Anakin acknowledged. “I’ll be right there.”

 

Anakin took a deep breath and headed for the Council chamber, all the while wondering why he would be summoned when his apprentice was in the midst of his most trying days as a Padawan Learner.

 

/

 

**Council Chamber**

 

/

 

Jedi Masters Yoda and Mace Windu were standing together, peering out into the setting sun as it dropped on another day.

 

“You’re worried about the renewed talk of war,” Mace commented softly.

 

“Yes,” Yoda replied. “Headed again to war, I fear the Republic is. Concerned for the Jedi, I am.”

 

They were quiet for several moments. Mace then looked at his colleague and spoke.

 

“The election of the new Chancellor is in four days,” Mace pointed out. “Should we assign security as Chancellor Organa has requested?”

 

“Assign security we will,” Yoda affirmed. “Protect Senator Jade and Senate Liaison Skywalker, we must.”

 

They continued an easy conversation until they were informed that those they’d summoned had arrived.

 

/

 

Anakin, Garen and Arik, Ferus and Luke all arrived outside the Council chamber at nearly the same time.

 

“Anyone know why we’re all here?” Garen asked as he looked at his companions.

 

“A mission, Master,” Arik quipped. “I know it.”

 

Anakin laughed at his youngest son. He was beyond joyful to see the teen smiling and laughing. After he’d come so close to losing his boy, Anakin enjoyed every moment spent with him.

 

“You’re a Council member; don’t you know why we’re here?” Ferus asked Garen.

 

Garen cleared his throat. “Well, yes, I’m a Council member, but…it’s been more in name only the last few years since Arik became my apprentice. I truly have no idea.”

 

Quickly they were ushered inside the chamber and the doors were shut behind them.

 

/

 

“Know why you have been summoned, do you?” Yoda asked the group.

 

As a Council member, Garen stepped forward. “No, Master.”

 

Anakin thought it odd that only Yoda and Mace Windu were present. He’d learned long ago not to question Yoda’s motives. The little Jedi always had a reason for the things he did.

 

“As you know, six months ago we became aware of certain…rumblings on a few former Separatist worlds,” Mace began. “We received a transmission from Chancellor Organa this morning detailing skirmishes and protests that occurred on a few of those worlds several days ago.”

 

Anakin frowned. “What sort of skirmishes, Master?”

 

Mace knew his next words would impact Anakin, Arik and Luke the most.

 

“Fighting broke out between groups of supporters and opponents to Senate Liaison Skywalker’s candidacy for Chancellor of the Republic,” Mace explained. “Chancellor Organa received word that should Padme win the office, some of these worlds are threatening secession from the Republic.”

 

Ferus looked over at Anakin and saw his friend clench his fists.

 

“Masters, are we seriously speaking of another civil war breaking out in the Republic?” Garen questioned. “Why is Padme being targeted?”

 

Luke and Arik shared a look. They had heard the stories about the Clone War and how their father had lost his master, Obi-Wan Kenobi during that time. Now their mother appeared to be in the middle of the new threat.

 

“Fear her ties to the Jedi, people do,” Yoda explained. “Fear that she would back the Jedi in all things, they do.”

 

“That’s ridiculous!” Luke exclaimed. “My mother is a fair politician. She treats everyone the same.”

 

Yoda nodded slightly at his padawan while Ferus rested a hand on Luke’s shoulder to calm the teenager.

 

“Know this, we do,” Yoda acknowledged. “Convincing the people, not so easy that is.”

 

“What are we going to do?” Anakin wanted to know. “If Padme wins the election, and these skirmishes and protests become outright war, what role will the Jedi take? Are we really going to fight another war?”

 

“Unfortunately, we have to wait until the election concludes,” Mace said. “Until we know exactly what is happening where, we cannot make a decision.”

 

Anakin was stunned. Of all the things he’d considered, never had he touched on the fact that his wife being elected might trigger another war. The previous six months had gone well in her campaign against Senator Jade. There had been a few small threats made against both candidates. The biggest problem had been what happened on Arkania with Garen and Arik and the man they had so briefly chased.

 

“What about the man Garen and my son attempted to apprehend on Arkania?” Anakin questioned. “Has there been any further progress on the search?”

 

“Know his identity, we do not,” Yoda revealed.

 

“What do we know about Senator Jade?” Ferus questioned. “We know we can trust Padme with sensitive information, but can we trust him?”

 

“Perhaps Padme can best answer that question,” Anakin offered. “Maybe we should ask her.”

 

“Ask her, you will, Master Skywalker,” Yoda instructed.

 

“The next matter to discuss is in regards to the security of the candidates,” Mace said. “Chancellor Organa has requested Jedi protection for Senator Jade and Senate Liaison Skywalker. We have agreed to provide security as requested.”

 

Anakin and his sons frowned. “Do you expect trouble, Master Windu? Here in the capitol?”

 

“Know what to expect, we do not,” Yoda reminded everyone. “Sense danger, I do not. Sense uneasiness, I _do_. Protect them both, we will. When done your padawan is with his Trials, to Senator Jade’s security detail he will be assigned. Master Skywalker and Padawan Skywalker, also guarding Senator Jade you will be.”

 

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Mace. “We cannot deny the fact that your wife has close ties to the Jedi, Anakin. The Council feels it would be best to assign her protection to someone other than her husband. Therefore, Master Muln and Knight Olin will be guarding her.”

 

Luke and Arik were both looking at their father. They could sense his frustration at being barred from protecting their mother. They were frustrated as well.

 

Garen rested a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “You know we will protect her with our lives, Anakin. You have my word on that.”

 

Anakin nodded as he took a deep cleansing breath before looking at both Garen and Ferus. “I know. I trust you both.”

 

After nearly thirty more minutes of discussion, Garen again stepped forward. “Masters, what of my padawan? Is he to be included on this mission?”

 

Arik waited with bated breath. Now that he knew it involved his mother, he desperately wanted to be included.

 

“Remain in the Temple, young Arik will,” Yoda decreed. “Too dangerous security might become. Not fully recovered is he.”

 

Arik’s face fell. “But I’m ready, Master Yoda. I can…”

 

“Padawan, Master Yoda is right,” Garen said to the boy. “Until you are fully healed, you need to stay here.”

 

Arik nodded, acknowledging that he wasn’t fully healed, but still not enjoying the idea that he could not participate in the upcoming security mission.

 

/

 

**The Following Day**

**The Jedi Temple**

 

/

 

Anakin was informed early in the morning by the High Council that Tristan had passed his Trials and was to become a Jedi Knight. Since he was to be included in the mission of providing security for Padme and Senator Jade, his Knighting ceremony would come rather quickly.

 

Anakin was about to leave his quarters when Tristan entered with a rather large grin on his face.

 

“I did it, Master,” he called as Anakin stood and met his apprentice in the middle of the room.

 

Anakin pulled the young man into a tight hug. “I’m so very proud of you. Your mother and fa…and your father would be too.”

 

A few tears gathered in Tristan’s eyes. “Thank you, Master.”

 

Anakin pulled back. “You’re one of the youngest Padawan Learners ever to be knighted at just twenty-one.”

 

Tristan felt immense pride at that accomplishment. “What happens next?”

 

Both men sat down. “Tomorrow you’ll spend the day in the Temple Spire in the preparation chamber. You meditate, listen to the Force, and let it guide you. You search for the path you’ll walk as a Jedi Knight.”

 

Tristan nodded. While meditation wasn’t his favorite activity, a trait he shared with Anakin, he could usually sink easily into the Force when he quieted his mind.

 

“After that, you’ll ascend to the Hall of Knighthood,” Anakin continued. “Once there, you’ll be knighted.”

 

Tristan smiled. “What do I do until tomorrow?”

 

“You and I meditate together.”

 

/

 

**Two Days Later**

**Hall of Knighthood**

 

/

 

Tristan entered the Hall of Knighthood at the behest of the High Council. He stepped to the middle of the darkened room and knelt down, placing his lightsaber on the ground in front of him. The Masters present in the room, assembled in a circle around Tristan, ignited their lightsabers.

 

The glow gave Tristan his first view of those in the room with him. He had already sensed the presences of Anakin, Garen and Master Yoda, but he also saw other Council members; Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, Ki-Adi Mundi and several others.

 

Yoda hobbled forward to stand before Tristan, his green lightsaber glowing, and began to speak

 

“All Jedi, we are. Through us, the Force speaks. Through our actions, does the Force proclaim itself and what is true. Acknowledge today we do what the Force has proclaimed. Tristan Kenobi…”

 

With his name said, Yoda lowered his saber to just above each of Tristan’s shoulders and with a flick of his arm, severed Tristan’s padawan braid.

 

“…by the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I dub thee, Knight of the Republic.”

 

“Knight of the Republic!” the other Jedi called and raised their sabers above their heads.

 

Tristan grabbed up his own saber, stood and added his weapon to the already glowing ones. He bowed respectfully once, and then turned and exited the chamber in silence; the knighting ritual over.

 

/

 

Later in the day, Anakin and Tristan were packing Tristan’s few belongings. He had almost immediately requested Knight’s quarters for himself. Occasionally, two Jedi Knights shared quarters, but Tristan was anxious to be on his own.

 

“Well, I think that’s everything, Master,” Tristan said as he closed his travel bag.

 

Anakin smiled. “You don’t have to call me master any longer,” he reminded his former student.

 

Tristan laughed. “I know, I just…it’s going to be difficult to do that.”

 

Anakin wrapped his arm around the young man’s shoulders. “I know. We’ll both have to adjust. I know you’re going to be fine. You need to be on your own for a while, I understand that. But, if you need me, I’m always here.”

 

Tristan nodded. “I won’t forget.”

 

Anakin walked his now former apprentice to the door and watched him head out.

 

“Don’t forget the meeting tonight to coordinate security for tomorrow,” he called out as Tristan made his way down the hall.

 

The new Jedi Knight waved a hand over his head in acknowledgement.

 

“I’m going to miss him,” Anakin muttered as he turned and walked back inside to submit his own request for Master’s quarters. He no longer needed shared quarters.

 

/

 

**_Axion_ **

 

/

 

_Protestors were lined up outside the government buildings. Many were shouting in support of Senator Jade while others were calling out their defense of Senate Liaison Skywalker._

_Large HoloNet viewers had been set up in the central city so the citizens could watch the election live to see who became the new Chancellor of the Republic._

_The Axion Defense Force was worried full-scale fighting would break out no matter the outcome._

 

/

 

**_Umbara_ **

 

/

 

_The election of a new Chancellor of the Republic was still more than twelve standard hours away, and already the military forces were tightening security around the capitol city. Small fights had broken out, but nothing serious._

 

/

 

**Chancellor Organa’s Private Office**

 

/

 

Bail was reading the newest reports from Axion, Umbara and nearly a dozen other worlds as they came in. It was his last night as Chancellor of the Republic, but still he felt the weight of handing over a fully-functioning government to his successor.

 

“Father?” a voice called out.

 

Bail looked up and saw his eighteen-year-old son Ebran enter the room. The boy was tall with dark hair and eyes; almost a replica of his father.

 

“What is it, Son?”

 

Ebran sat down and stared at his father. “I want to join the Republic military.”

 

Bail sighed deeply. “Ebran, now is not the time to…”

 

Ebran stood. “Yes, now _is_ the time to discuss this, Father. Tomorrow you will no longer be Chancellor of this Republic. I am of age, and I do not need your permission to join the Republic Navy. But, I would like to have your blessing before I go to the recruitment center tomorrow after the election.”

 

Bail did not want his only son, his only _child_ in the military, especially with the threats of a new war skulking just around the next corner. But Ebran was right; he was of age and didn’t need his parents’ permission.

 

Bail stood and moved around his desk. “What does Leia say about this?”

 

Ebran blushed. He thought he and Leia Skywalker had done well to hide their friendship.

 

“She…I haven’t told her…yet,” he stammered. “I planned to tell her tomorrow after her mother…well, after whatever happens tomorrow.”

 

Bail nodded. “Have you spoken to your mother?”

 

Ebran sighed. “Yes. I spoke with her a few hours ago. She is not…pleased. However, she did say she would support whatever I decide.”

 

Bail knew his headstrong son was going to what he wanted with or without blessing or permission, neither of which did he need to join the military. So Bail did the only thing he could do, and he prayed to the gods that it would not come back to haunt him.

 

“You have my blessing.”

 

/

 

**Morning of the Election**

 

/

 

“I don’t like this,” Anakin quipped as they stood close to Senator Jade as he walked through the assembled crowds shaking hands and bartering for votes.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Anakin shook his head. “Some of these senators he’s…schmoozing are former Separatist leaders. Why go to them? What does he hope to gain by garnering their votes at the last minute?”

 

Luke was watching Senator Jade closely as he’d been instructed. He’d met him several times before, but he could never get a real sense of the man.

 

“He’s just angling for as many votes as he can get,” Tristan offered. “I’m sure Padme is doing the same thing this morning.”

 

Anakin nodded. “Yeah, I suppose, I just…”

 

Before he could even complete his sentence, Anakin’s senses tickled at the back of his mind. His hand went to his lightsaber at the same time as Tristan and Luke. He stepped up directly next to Darex Jade and grabbed his arm.

 

“Time to go, Senator, follow me,” he ordered.

 

Darex frowned as he was pulled away. “But there are…”

 

“Not now, Senator, there isn’t time to argue,” Luke offered as he stepped to Darex’s left while Tristan brought up the rear.

 

“Where are you taking me?”

 

“Somewhere safe,” Anakin answered. “Now follow us and do not argue.”

 

/

 

Garen and Ferus were constantly looking around, watching every person who got close to Padme. They had sworn to protect her with their lives, and both men would do just that.

 

“You two need to lighten up,” Padme teased. “What could possibly go wrong today?”

 

“You could lose,” Garen joked. “That would be _very_ wrong.”

 

Padme turned to her friend. “You don’t like my opponent?”

 

“I find him…odd,” Garen told her. “He seems…Arik called him _shifty_. I suppose that is as good a word as any.”

 

Padme laughed at her youngest child’s sense of humor. “Well, let’s just go about our business. I’m scheduled to be here for another twenty minutes and then we’re off to the Senate Building.”

 

Both Jedi nodded. Neither one much cared for politics and counted Padme Skywalker as one of the very few politicians they liked. Bail Organa and Mon Mothma were the only other two.

 

/

 

Luke heard it first.

 

“Get down!” he yelled as he ignited his lightsaber.

 

Anakin pushed Darex to the ground in the same motion as he ignited his own saber, followed by Tristan. From the air came several powerful bolts from a heavy blaster.

 

Anakin and Tristan began blocking them while Luke stayed close to Darex.

 

“There!” Tristan yelled as he spotted where the bolts were coming from. “It’s a speeder with aft-mounted blaster cannons.”

 

“Luke! Take him and head for cover!” Anakin yelled over the noise of the frightened crowd and the blaster fire.

 

Luke did as he was told and managed to get Darex to his feet so they could run. He put the man in front of him so he could deflect any shots that got through.

 

Anakin and Tristan continued to block the heavy shots.

 

While looking behind him as he ran, Luke missed the shot from the blaster cannon on a second speeder which created a significant blast just ahead of him and Darex. They were blown off their feet and Luke was knocked unconscious.

 

/

 

Ferus’ comlink chirped. He had a quick conversation before clipping it back to his belt and moving over to Garen and Padme.

 

“We have to go,” Ferus instructed. “Now.”

 

“Why?” Padme asked even as she began to follow the Ferus with Garen right behind her.

 

“I just received a transmission from Coruscant Security,” he began. “There’s been an attack on Senator Jade. We have to get you to safety, Milady.”

 

Garen reached for his lightsaber and kept it in his hand all the way back to the closed-cockpit speeder in which they were to transport Padme to the Senate Building.

 

“Is he okay? Are Anakin and the others okay?” she asked the three of them entered and Garen quickly took off.

 

Ferus looked at her. “I don’t know.”

 

/

 

Darex was picking himself up when Anakin and Tristan appeared. After the blast, the two attacking speeders fled the area.

 

“Where is Luke?”

 

Darex was concussed from the blast and his ears were ringing. He shook his head and tried to speak, but no words came out. He tried again just as someone yelled out.

 

“Blaster!”

 

Tristan sprang up, his eyes trained on the man with the blaster headed right for them. He fired, but Tristan deflected the bolts right back at the man, killing him instantly.

 

Darex’s eyes were wide with fear. Someone had tried to kill him; twice.

 

“You…you saved my life,” he finally managed, directing his words at Tristan.

 

Anakin was looking for Luke. He found him several meters away in the small crater the blaster cannon had left. The boy was not moving, but Anakin could see that he was breathing.

 

He scooped him into his arms and all four of them headed into the nearest building. He put Luke down and pulled out his comlink. After alerting the Temple of Luke’s injuries, he sent Tristan on with Darex to the Senate Building.

 

Anakin was going to wait for the Temple’s medical emergency response team to arrive to take care of Luke.

 

/

 

Garen and Ferus were escorting Padme into the building when the three of them caught sight of Tristan walking next to Darex.

 

Padme sped her pace and walked up to them. “Are you both all right?”

 

Tristan nodded as he looked to Darex. The senator was still pale-faced and shaking.

 

“We’re…fine,” he managed.

 

“What about Anakin and Luke?” Padme questioned Tristan.

 

He gently took her by the elbow and led her off to a small alcove. “Luke was hurt. He was…a blast caught him and he was knocked unconscious. Master Anakin is with him waiting for the Temple MER team to arrive.”

 

Tears gathered in Padme’s eyes. “Is he…”

 

“I think he just has a concussion and some cuts and bruises,” Tristan assured her. “He’ll be just fine. Nothing some bacta and a little rest won’t cure.”

 

Padme nodded, wiped away her tears and turned her eyes to Darex Jade. “Are you all right, Darex?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, I…thanks to young Tristan, I am just fine. A few scrapes, but nothing serious.”

 

The two politicians continued to speak in hushed tones while the three Jedi milled about; eyes on everything and everyone.

 

/

 

**The Jedi Temple**

 

/

 

Anakin had just concluded a conversation with Padme when Luke first stirred. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus on the figure he could barely make out beside his bed.

 

“What happened?” he rasped.

 

Anakin sat down and handed Luke a glass of water. “Drink slowly.”

 

When Luke was done, Anakin explained everything about the attack and the concussion that Luke had sustained.

 

“Have the election results been broadcast yet?”

 

Anakin shook his head and ran a hand through his long, dark blonde hair. “No, but your mother and Senator Jade are safe at the Senate building. It’ll be a few hours still. In the meantime, I’m going over there and…”

 

“I want to come with you,” Luke said.

 

Anakin stood. “No, you’re not coming with me. You’re going to be fine, but you have to stay here in the healer’s ward for a while longer. I’ll be back tonight.”

 

Luke only nodded and closed his eyes, tiredness sweeping over him as Anakin walked out of the room.

 

/

 

Padme was sitting in her private office with outgoing Chancellor Bail Organa when Anakin walked in.

 

“Chancellor,” Anakin acknowledged as the two men shook hands.

 

Padme stepped around Bail and let Anakin pull her into a tight embrace.

 

“Is he really all right?” she asked about Luke.

 

Anakin nodded as he held his wife. “He’s fine. He has some cuts and scrapes. He’s already got bacta patches on those. He has a concussion, but a few healing trances will take care of that.”

 

A few tears escaped. Now she’d come close to losing both of her sons. She respected and admired the Jedi, but at times she cursed them.

 

“I’m going to leave you two alone,” Bail said, knowing the Skywalker couple had completely forgotten his presence.

 

Padme wiped her tears. “I’m sorry, Bail.”

 

He touched her shoulder affectionately. “It’s okay; I understand worrying over your children.”

 

He nodded to Anakin and stepped from the office.

 

“What did he mean by that?” Anakin wondered.

 

Padme led him to the couch across the room and they sat down. “Ebran wants to join the Republic military.”

 

If Anakin was surprised, he didn’t show it. He and Padme had only recently gotten to know Ebran Organa since he and Leia had become friends.

 

“What does our daughter have to say about this?” Anakin questioned, his concern for his only daughter bleeding through in his tone of voice.

 

Padme chuckled softly. “According to Bail, Ebran has yet to work up the nerve to tell Leia.”

 

Anakin wiped a hand over his face. “This is going to blow up in our faces. She’s going to be devastated. I knew that boy was…”

 

“Stop,” Padme interrupted. “Ebran is a wonderful young man and he cares for our daughter very much, as Leia does for him.”

 

Anakin sighed. “What were you and the Chancellor discussing when I came in?”

 

“Reports of minor skirmishes as far as the Mid-Rim are coming in,” she explained to her husband. “Fighting is getting worse on some Inner-Rim worlds.”

 

Anakin knew that. “I know. The Jedi are aware of the situation.”

 

Padme leaned into his side. “What if I win and…”

 

Anakin wrapped his arms around her. “ _When_ you win, everything is going to be okay. Even if…even if this leads more than skirmishes, we’ll find a way to deal with it.”

 

“So many people no longer trust the Jedi, Anakin,” Padme told him. “This is about more than _me_ becoming Chancellor. People don’t want _anyone_ associated so closely with the Jedi Order to lead this Republic.”

 

“Perhaps we should have seen this coming all those years ago when we spun the tail about Palpatine being under the control of a rogue Jedi,” Anakin pondered. “We helped sow the distrust that is sparking this reaction to you.”

 

“Do you really believe we’re headed for another war?”

 

“I don’t know,” he replied after several moments, his blue eyes clouded with worry. “I do know this; whatever happens, you’ll be safe. I promise.”

 

Padme gave him a tender smile as their lips met in a soft, loving kiss.

 

/

 

**Grand Convocation Chamber**

 

/

 

Nightfall was approaching as senators, representatives and aides entered the large chamber where the results of the election would be announced within minutes. The voting period had ended nearly an hour before, and the time had come for a new Chancellor to ascend.

 

Many Jedi were also stationed in and around the perimeter of the chamber. With the earlier attack on Senator Jade, no one was taking any chances.

 

“Are you ready for this?” Darex whispered to Padme as they sat together.

 

She smiled slightly and nodded. “I hope so. I wanted to discuss something with you.”

 

“Something important?”

 

Padme nodded. “In the event that I win the election, I wanted to…I want you to be my Vice-Chancellor _if_ I win.”

 

Darex didn’t know what to say. He had always understood that he might well lose the election, but he’d never hoped to still have such access should he actually lose.

 

“I…well I…of course I will,” he stammered, truly in shock.

 

Before either of them had a chance to say anything else, Mon Mothma, the Vice Chancellor of the Republic stepped into her repulsorpod which immediately detached from its docking place and moved into position before the empty Chancellor’s Podium.

 

“The results have been certified by the Elector Committee, and it is my pleasure to announce to you all, the new Chancellor of the Republic, Padme Naberrie-Skywalker!”

 

Cheers ranging from merely polite to quite enthusiastic went throughout the chamber. Some senators were quiet. Others spoke softly into their comlinks.

 

Anakin couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his face when Padme’s name was announced. He was very proud of her. He grabbed his comlink and punched in a code and began to speak softly.

 

/

 

The HoloNet News was being broadcast across the Republic and while there was celebrating in the Senate and at the Skywalker residence; war was on the horizon on many worlds from the Core to the Outer Rim.

 

The first shots were fired on Axion at nearly the same moment the announcement was made.

 

“The Jedi might as well rule the galaxy now!” the protestors on Umbara yelled.

 

“Secession!” was shouted on a dozen worlds.

 

/

 

The following morning came quickly and the announcement was made that Senator Darex Jade had been offered, and accepted, the position of Vice-Chancellor. The official handover of power to the newly elected government was a formal event with Bail Organa signing documents relinquishing his rule.

 

Reports were coming from dozens of worlds concerning small skirmishes to all out fighting taking place over the election. Padme had asked Darex to take point of gathering all of the information and summarizing the situation for her.

 

“We’ll meet this evening and formalize a plan to deal with this situation,” she informed him.

 

He nodded once and vacated the office, leaving Padme and Bail alone.

 

“Might I make a suggestion?” Bail asked his friend.

 

Sitting down and letting out a deep breath, Padme nodded. “Please.”

 

“I suspect you won’t like this idea, however it may be your only option,” he began. “The clones may need to be reactivated.”

 

Padme closed her eyes. “Oh, Bail. I don’t want it to come to that.”

 

He sympathized with her. “I understand that, but you must also be practical. If you’re facing another war, you may not have any other choice. Think it over. Have your meeting with Jade. If I can be of any help at all, please let me know.”

 

They shared a friendly hug and Bail left office; leaving Padme along as the new Chancellor of the Republic.

 

/

 

“Father?” Mara called as she stepped into her father’s office.

 

Darex smiled at his daughter from behind his desk. “My dear, Mara, our plans are coming together.”

 

“How so?” she asked as she sat down in front of him.

 

Darex quickly and quietly explained the meeting he’d had with Padme. He told her of Padme’s decision to reactivate the clonetroopers to deal with the rising tensions in the galaxy.

 

“How is young Kenobi coming along?” he then asked Mara.

 

“He’s moved into separate quarters from Master Skywalker,” she reported. “He’s…volatile. His emotions run hot and cold. He becomes angry easily. A young Dathomiri women named Riema seems to hold special value to him but Master Skywalker has forbid the relationship due to her status as a Dathomiri witch.”

 

Darex smiled. “You’ve done well, Daughter. I would like to meet with young Tristan, to thank him for his part in saving my life. Would you be able to arrange that?”

 

Mara gave a non-committal shrug. “Possibly. I’ll update you as soon as I have anything to report.”

 

Darex watched with pride as his only child left his office. He leaned back in his chair and reveled in the power he was so close to holding in his hands.

 

/

 

**Skywalker Apartment**

 

/

 

“Say something,” Padme said softly as she stood next to her husband.

 

“What would you like me to say?” he asked her. “That I think this is a terrible idea? I do. That we have no idea what this action will mean for the Republic long term? We don’t. That the Jedi cannot and _will not_ become generals again?”

 

A few tears rolled down her cheeks as they stood together on the balcony overlooking the busy space lanes.

 

“Do you believe I didn’t have all of those same thoughts, Anakin?” she asked in a firm tone. “This isn’t what I _want_ , but it’s the only choice I _have_.”

 

Anakin couldn’t hold back the accusation in his eyes or his voice when he looked at his wife. “There’s always another choice, Padme. You just have to look for it.”

 

With that, he turned and headed f inside.

 

“Where are you going?” she questioned gently.

 

He stopped walking, but didn’t turn around. “Back to the temple.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

 

/

 

**One Year Later**

 

/

 

**Jabiim**

 

/

 

Over the past year, as Anakin feared, the Jedi had been pulled once again into the conflict between the Republic and the planets that wished to be free of its governance. With every step he took into the renewed tension-filled galaxy, he recalled memories of Obi-Wan and their missions together during the Clone Wars.

 

Clonetroopers under Anakin’s command were attempting to take control of Razor Coast, which had been seized weeks before by Separatist forces. The fighting was intense; as intense as any he could remember from the Clone Wars. Blaster and cannon fire were coming in at them from all directions. Anakin deflected as much as possible with his lightsaber.

 

Tristan, a year into his knighthood, fought beside his former teacher. The twenty-two-year old young man was caked in mud from the near-constant rainfall that plagued Jabiim. His shaggy, shoulder-length hair was in his eyes, impeding his vision at times.

 

But he was fast and strong. Tristan’s skills with his lightsaber surpassed nearly all in the Jedi Order except Anakin, Yoda and Mace. Blaster fire that Anakin failed to block, Tristan did.

 

Skywalker and Kenobi. They still made a good team.

 

On the opposite end of Razor Coast, Garen and Arik were edging closer to the Separatist stronghold. Garen, like Anakin, had never wished for Tristan, Arik or anyone else to witness the horrors of war as they had faced. Yet, here they were, lightsabers flashing amongst soldiers with blasters, battle droids; all manner of evil at their booted feet.

 

Arik, now fifteen years of age and fully recovered from his wounds, had grown in height and skill. His voice had deepened into that of a young man.

 

“I can see my father, Master!” Arik yelled over the rain for Garen to hear him as they approached the stronghold.

 

As the clonetroopers gained the upper hand, Anakin and Tristan charged forward to assist Garen and Arik in their secondary mission, which was the capture of the commander of the Separatist forces on Jabiim. The man was cocooned in the center of the stronghold where he believed he was safe.

 

Tristan swung wide towards the front of the stronghold, saber swinging in a high arc, deflecting blaster fire as he took step after step.

 

“Behind you!” Tristan heard Arik yell.

 

Tristan dove for the sand as a cannon blast barely missed him. He was about to stand when his caught sight of the man Garen and Arik were supposed to capture. Anakin sensed the danger before he felt it.

 

Garen had been creeping up on one side, which left a blind spot. He stepped around a corner and was instantly met with blaster fire.

 

Anakin turned on his heel and ran towards Garen.

 

Tristan leapt up and lunged for the older man.

 

Arik was stunned; not able to move. He watched his father and pseudo-brother try to save Garen.

 

But the Chosen One and his former apprentice were a step too slow; a breath too far away.

 

Garen raised his lightsaber a moment too late. Blaster fire slammed into his chest. He was lifted from his feet by the force of the shots.

 

“Garen!” Anakin yelled as he knelt next to his friend.

 

Tristan, and now Arik, continued to deflect blaster bolts while the clonetroopers managed to finally subdue the fighting force. They placed the commander, Kevram Malak under arrest for war crimes.

 

“An…Ani,” Garen gasped as he gripped Anakin’s mechanical hand.

 

Tears had already gathered in Anakin’s blue eyes. He’d said too many goodbyes already to friends and colleagues, yet here was another, more painful than most.

 

“I’m here, my friend,” Anakin said softly.

 

He reached out with his flesh and blood hand and rested it on Garen’s forehead, easing some of his pain.

 

“Master,” Arik sobbed as he knelt down by Garen.

 

Garen managed a small smile as he reached for his apprentice. “My…my boy. I...I knew the…the moment I first…held you that…”

 

Arik and Anakin didn’t hide their tears.

 

“…that we…we were connected,” he finished with a cough.

 

Anakin didn’t miss the blood now seeping from Garen’s mouth. “Conserve your strength. A med team is on the way.”

 

Garen squeezed Anakin’s hand. “No need.”

 

His eyes began drifting closed.

 

“No, Master!” Arik yelled. “No! You can’t die!”

 

Jedi Master Garen Muln was dead.

 

Anakin’s tears now were not for his friend, but for his son. As Arik watched his mentor die, Anakin knew his pain; felt it deeply in his own soul. In his mind, Anakin was back in a dusty repair shop, having burst in to find Obi-Wan dead.

 

Anakin shook off the harsh memories and gathered his son into his arms. The teenager wrapped gangly arms around his waist and buried his face in his father’s chest. Anakin rubbed his back gently, whispering words and sending thoughts of comfort to the boy.

 

“Why, Dad?” Arik sobbed.

 

Anakin closed his eyes tight; Obi-Wan’s face appearing behind his closed lids. “I don’t know, Arik. I’ll never know.”

 

After several long moments of hugging his son, Anakin let go and turned to speak with Tristan. When he didn’t see him, he turned his attention to several of the clonetroopers.

 

“Please get Master Muln to the ship and…”

 

When he stopped, one clone stepped forward. “We’ll take care of him, General Skywalker.”

 

“Thank you,” he told them as he guided Arik away, his thoughts having already drifted far away from Tristan.

 

/

 

Tristan had stepped into the stronghold and waved his fingers imperceptivity at the two guards standing before Kevram Malak.

 

“You need to turn away,” he instructed.

 

Both guards turned away from Tristan.

 

He approached Malak and could see and sense the fear in the man. He smiled wickedly and used the Force to unlock the cuffs around his wrists.

 

Malak grinned. “Come to rescue me, Jedi?”

 

Tristan grinned back as he pulled a vibro-blade from his waist. “No, I’ve come to kill you. You murdered a very good friend of mine today.”

 

Malak began backing up, his fear eating at him now. Tristan took small, measure steps towards the shorter man. When he had him cornered, he bent down so they were eye to eye.

 

“You must pay for your crimes,” he whispered as he plunged the blade deeply into Malak’s stomach.

 

Within minutes it was over. The blade was wiped clear of Tristan’s fingerprints and placed in Malak’s hand. Tristan again turned to the guards and expertly used the mind trick.

 

“You saw nothing,” he said. “No one entered. The man must have had a concealed weapon. Do not turn around to look.”

 

The guards, glassy-eyed and docile, repeated word for word Tristan’s commands.

 

Satisfied with his work, Tristan exited the stronghold and no one saw a thing until clonetroopers entered an hour later and alerted the stunned guards to the fact that their charge was dead.

 

/

 

Mara watched her father throw things across the room as he steamed at the news that Kevram Malak had been captured and mysteriously killed. He was angry that yet another uprising by the Separatists had been put down by the Jedi.

 

“Battles are won and lost, Father,” Mara pointed out. “The war has not been lost.”

 

Darex turned and stared at his daughter. Mara had grown into a beautiful young woman, much like her mother had been. But she wasn’t quite the cutthroat ally he needed in his quest to have Tristan Kenobi at his side. She had managed to arrange a meeting between them, and young Tristan had begun to confide in him, but he needed more.

 

“I understand that Skywalker, his son and Kenobi are headed back to the Jedi Temple,” he said.

 

Mara nodded. “That is correct. There is to be a funeral for...for Master Garen.”

 

Darex nodded. He had met Garen Muln once and had actually liked the younger man. Darex had nothing against the Jedi personally. They were simply in his way and needed to be removed.

 

“Please ask him to come see me when he has a free moment,” he instructed.

 

Mara nodded as she left, her heart and her head in constant battle over her role in her father’s plans for the Jedi, one of whom meant a great deal to her.

 

/

 

Anakin recalled Obi-Wan’s Remembrance ceremony years before as he stood watching and listening to countless Jedi speak about Garen. Back then, Garen had been at his side, helping Padme hold him up as he said goodbye to his brother.

 

Now, Arik and Luke stood on either side of their father; Leia standing in front of him. Garen’s life-long friend, Reeft, stepped forward and lit the funeral pyre. The tall Dressellian stepped back and watched as the flames licked at Garen’s body before fully engulfing the Jedi, carrying and committing his spirit to the Force.

 

Jedi began to file out; Anakin told his children to go find something to do. He wanted to speak with Reeft.

 

“I’m the last,” Reeft said softly.

 

Anakin didn’t have to ask what he meant. Reeft had grown up with Obi-Wan, Siri and Garen. All were now gone; all but Reeft.

 

“I never thought I’d be the last,” he continued.

 

“You may be the last, Reeft, but you’re not alone,” Anakin told him. “I’m here and I’m your friend.”

 

“As am I,” said a new voice.

 

Reeft turned, not recognizing the voice, but Anakin didn’t need to. “Hello, Ferus.”

 

He stepped up to them. “Anakin. Reeft. I’m so sorry about Master Garen. I know he meant a lot to you both.”

 

Reeft thanked him and quickly excused himself.

 

“This is hard on him,” Anakin told Ferus. “Harder even on my son.”

 

Ferus cleared his throat. “About Arik; I just came from the Council chambers.”

 

Anakin nodded. “He’s being assigned to you. When I heard you’d been recalled from Dantooine, I figured it was for that specific reason.”

 

“I’m not sure how to go about training him,” Ferus admitted. “He’s hurt and angry and…”

 

Anakin turned to face his childhood nemesis. “He just needs you to listen. Arik’s a talker. He uses his words to work things out in his head. Lend him your ears and you’ll both do fine. He _will_ endure this and come out the other side stronger for it.”

 

“Like you did?” Ferus asked softly.

 

Anakin gave him a nod and friendly pat on the shoulder. “Yes, and like you did.”

 

With that said, Anakin headed out of the room leaving Ferus with his thoughts; thoughts off his new apprentice and his departed master, Siri.

 

/

 

Luke found Mara in one of the training rooms working against a remote with her eyes closed. He watched for a few moments.

 

“You can come in, Farmboy,” Mara called as she opened her eyes.

 

“Farmboy?” he asked as he stepped into the room. “I wasn’t raised on a farm you know.”

 

Mara smiled as she took in his appearance. His blonde hair had recently been cut, so it was very short and spiked on top. His padawan braid had a few new colored ties since they’d last seen one another. She swore he was taller and broader in the shoulders and chest and at seventeen, his voice was that of a man, having long ago lost the squeakiness of youth.

 

“Wanna spar?” he asked, reaching for his lightsaber.

 

Mara shrugged. “Sure. I could use a light workout.”

 

They went easy on one another at first. Strike and parry, back and forth until Luke suddenly leapt into the air and landed behind Mara. Sh felt the heat of the saber at her neck. She heaved a sigh and lowered her head.

 

“Kill point,” Luke barely got out before Mara turned and swept his legs out from under him.

 

He hit the mat while striking out with his own leg, throwing Mara off balance and down to the floor, only she landed directly on top of him.

 

She went to stand immediately, but Luke wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her body to his.

 

“Don’t go,” he said softly.

 

Unable to deny her feelings, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

 

/

 

Hours later, Mara watched from a concealed corner of the Temple as Tristan left, headed for her father.

 

She closed her eyes and asked the Force for guidance. She was losing the battle over her feelings for Luke. She was definitely falling in love with him, though he was two years younger.

 

She loved her father very much, but he was bent on destroying the Jedi.

 

/

 

Darex was working when he was informed Tristan had arrived. He waved the young man in and offered him a seat.

 

“How are you, my boy?” he asked.

 

Tristan smiled. He liked Darex Jade, even though his daughter was a mild annoyance.

 

“I’m well, Vice-Chancellor,” Tristan answered formally. “I am curious as to why you’ve asked to see me. You’ve already thanked me profusely for my part in saving your life a year ago.”

 

Darex laughed softly as he sat down behind his desk. “While I remain grateful for that, it isn’t why I asked to see you. I called you here for this.”

 

Tristan took the information he was handed and began to read through it.

 

“Has this information been verified?”

 

Darex nodded as he poured himself and Tristan each a mug of Corellian whiskey.

 

“Yes,” Darex answered. “The Chancellor has contacts with one of the clans on Dathomir. She was informed several days ago of the presence of a few high-ranking Separatist leaders and two Republic senators conspiring to convince the Dathomiri to join their cause.”

 

Tristan frowned. “If Padme knows about this, why don’t the Jedi? I’m sure Master Anakin would have said something to me.”

 

Darex shrugged. “I really have no answer for that, Jedi Kenobi. However, I seriously doubt that Anakin Skywalker _doesn’t_ know of this development. You can be certain that if he knows, Masters Yoda and Windu know as well.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Tristan questioned. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“I want you to go to Dathomir and find these men, these _traitors_ to the Republic, and destroy them,” Darex told him straight out.

 

Tristan was quiet. He studied the holos in the file. He recognized Senators Balkis and Jamaren. They were close allies of Padme and Darex. Tristan couldn’t figure out why they would suddenly become traitors.

 

But he intended to find out.

 

“I’ll report as soon as I find anything out,” he told Darex as he stood. “Thanks for the whiskey.”

 

Darex was pleased at Tristan’s somewhat easy acceptance of the evidence he’d presented.

 

“What are you doing?” came a female voice that startled Darex.

 

He turned and saw his daughter standing on the doorway. Her green eyes were full of fire.

 

“What brings you here so late, Mara?” he questioned the young woman.

 

Mara Jade stormed into the office. “What do you hope to gain by sending Kenobi to Dathomir? Do two junior senators and a few Separatist leaders mean so much?”

 

Darex grinned. “No, they mean nothing in the grand scheme. However, the young woman you mentioned, Riema, she means a great deal and when young Tristan sees her, I expect his reaction to be…explosive.”


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

 

/

 

**Chancellor Skywalker’s Office**

 

/

 

“I cannot believe you are even entertaining this idea!” Vice-Chancellor Darex Jade yelled. “We cannot give in to them!”

 

Even in the face of Darex’s anger, Padme remained calm. “Giving in may be the only way to end this war. We cannot let this go on as long as it did so many years ago.”

 

Darex sighed as he ran his hands through his graying hair. “Chancellor, I…Padme, listen to me. The Republic has lost a lot over the past year, without a doubt. We stand to lose _much_ more if we let these worlds secede from the Republic. We’re projecting an image of being weak, of being…conciliatory.”

 

Padme’s eyes blazed. “We are not weak, nor are we being conciliatory. A strategic retreat is not weakness, Darex.”

 

“You’re not talking about a strategic retreat, Padme,” he scolded. “You’re talking about surrender. This Republic _must_ remain intact. To allow it to fracture now would be insane.”

 

With that, Darex stood and swept from Padme’s office leaving her behind to consider his words.

 

/

 

Arik Skywalker was pulling at his robes. He felt nervous, uncomfortable in his own skin as he waited outside the Council chambers to be called in. It had only been a few days since Garen’s funeral and the young man was not at all eager to be placed in the care of a new mentor so soon.

 

“Padawan Skywalker,” the attendant called his name. “You may enter the chambers now.”

 

Arik straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

 

He stepped into the circular chamber and eyes all of the masters seated in a semi-circle, including his father and Yoda.

 

“Know why we have called you, you do, Padawan Skywalker?” Yoda questioned.

 

“I believe so, Master,” Arik answered. “I am to be assigned to a…a new master.”

 

Anakin closely watched his son’s reactions. He knew Arik was having a difficult time with the loss of Garen and he and the other masters wanted to be sure that the teen was able to handle such drastic changes so soon.

 

“Accept this, you do?”

 

Arik was silent for a few moments, causing concern among the gathered Jedi.

 

“Padawan Skywalker,” another master called.

 

With a deep breath, Arik nodded. “Yes, I accept. Who is to be my new master?”

 

The chamber doors opened then with a wave of Yoda’s clawed hand. In strode Ferus Olin. He stood next to Arik and offered the youth a tentative smile which Arik returned slightly.

 

“Master Olin has been offered, and accepted the role of being your new master,” Arik was told.

 

Ferus turned to Arik and rested a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re not ready, we can put this off, or someone else can be chosen.”

 

Arik shook his head. “No, this is…I must move on. We should do this now.”

 

A small ceremony followed in which a beginning training bond was formed between Arik and Ferus. Once completed, the new master and padawan team left the chamber.

 

“Will he be okay?” Jedi Master Lleto asked Anakin.

 

Anakin stood and folded his arms into the sleeves of his cloak and shook his head. “I sincerely hope so.”

 

“Your son is powerful, Skywalker,” Master Windu remarked as he came to stand next to Anakin while the others exited the chamber.

 

Anakin nodded. “Yes, he is. Probably more powerful than his brother and sister.”

 

“Concerns you, this does?” Yoda asked from his hover-chair which floated beside Mace.

 

Anakin shook his head. “No, Master, it doesn’t. Garen’s death and its effect on my son concerns me. Arik is a sensitive soul, Masters, and he feels things deeply.”

 

“Much like you,” Mace commented.

 

“Yes, much like me,” Anakin agreed. “Though, his emotional control is far beyond mine when I was fifteen.”

 

“Fine, he will be,” Yoda decided. “Time to work through things, he needs. Time, Master Olin will give him.”

 

The conversation continued for several more minutes before Anakin excused himself to head for the Senate building and his wife.

 

/

 

**Days Later**

 

/

 

**Dathomir**

 

/

 

Tristan stepped off the transport ship he took from Coruscant to Dathomir and was immediately looked upon with suspicion by three senior members of the Singing Mountain Clan.

 

“What brings you here, Jedi?” one of them asked.

 

Tristan pulled back his hood and was shocked when he set eyes of Riema. He swallowed deeply and executed a deep bow.

 

“I come on an important mission for the Vice-Chancellor of the Republic,” he told them, his eyes never once leaving Riema.

 

“What mission?”

 

“Senators Balkis and Jamaren have been under surveillance and have been found to be conspiring with the Separatist leaders here on Dathomir in what the Republic believes is an attempt at swaying your people to join their cause,” he told the leader of the clan.

 

“For what purpose?” Riema asked as she stepped forward.

 

Tristan’s eyes glossed over in anger as he looked at the girl he once thought he loved. Now, all feelings for her were gone, flushed from his system by her cold, stinging rejection.

 

“For the purpose of adding to their numbers, of course,” he snapped. “I’m certain they wish to learn the…magic you possess.”

 

“We have not seen them,” the clan leader spoke. “You are granted two nights’ stay on planet, then you must leave.”

 

All but Riema turned and left; she stepped forward as the transport ship began to ascend.

 

“Tris,” she said softly as she reached for his arm.

 

Tristan pulled away. “You dare reach out to me? After that… _letter_ you sent, you believe you have the right?”

 

Riema pulled her hand back, but did not avert her eyes from his angry face. “This is my world, I have every right to touch a male.”

 

Tristan’s blue-gray eyes blazed as he reached out with his right hand extended towards Riema. Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her throat.

 

“You are dead to me, Riema,” he said in a chilling whisper as he stepped directly in front of her. “Your rights to me, _any part of me_ , have been terminated.”

 

Lack of oxygen took its toll and Riema passed out at Tristan’s feet. He dispassionately watched her body fall and callously stepped over her as he set about on his search for the two senators who had become traitors to the Republic.

 

/

 

Ferus found his new apprentice seated on the ground in front of a pond in the Room of a Thousand Fountains in a light meditation. The boys’ emotions had been all over the place since Garen’s death.

 

Before Ferus could announce his presence, Arik spoke. “Are we going on a mission?”

 

Ferus sat down next to his new apprentice and slowly nodded. “Yes, we are. Do you think you’re ready for it?”

 

Arik kept his eyes closed. “I believe so, Fer…Master.”

 

Ferus reached over and rested a hand on Arik’s shoulder. “You don’t have to call me that, Arik. Using my name is fine with me.”

 

Arik opened his eyes and turned to look at Ferus. He studied the dark eyes; dark hair with the gold streak running through it. Arik didn’t know Ferus Olin well, but he figured with the start of their missions together that would change.

 

“I don’t mind,” Arik said quietly, and he found the more he considered it, he truly _didn’t_ mind. “Master Garen would…he would want me to.”

 

“You wish to make him proud of you,” Ferus observed, sensing the boys’ motivations.

 

Arik nodded. “Yes, Master. I was proud to be his padawan and I want to become the Jedi he was training me to be; the Jedi he always told me I could be.”

 

Ferus smiled. “You will be, Arik Skywalker, I promise you that. We’ll figure out this master/padawan dynamic and when it’s all said and done, you’ll stand tall as a Jedi Knight.”

 

Arik gave him a genuine smile then. “Yes, Master.”

 

Both stood then and headed out of the Room of a Thousand Fountains side by side. When they reached the doors, Arik looked up at Ferus.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

Ferus grinned, but didn’t say a word.

 

/

 

**Dathomir**

 

/

 

Tristan had little trouble tracking the senators. He’d discovered their hiding place in a cave just a few meters climb from the base of a large mountain. He sat crouched down listening to the conversations inside the dimly lit cave. He could not make out the words, but he could detect at least five to six different voices.

 

Taking a deep breath, Tristan stood, grasped his lightsaber tightly in his hand and walked slowly into the cave. As the voices got closer, he ignited the saber and stepped into the large chamber.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Senator Jamaren called out when he saw the Jedi. “Who are you?”

 

Tristan said nothing; stepping further into the room. His eyes were on fire with sharp hatred as he stared between the two Republic senators and the four Separatist leaders gathered around a large table.

 

“Why are you here, Jedi?” Senator Balkis questioned as he stepped around the table to come face to face with Tristan.

 

“You are traitors to the Republic, all of you,” Tristan said in a clear voice. “I have come here on the orders of Vice-Chancellor Darex Jade to put an end to your treachery.”

 

Separatist leader, General Korman Davess, laughed. “You’re a fool, boy. We’re not the traitors. We’re here discussing how best to _end_ this insane and unnecessary fight. The people who lead your government are the…”

 

“Enough!” Tristan yelled. “You have all betrayed the Republic and you will pay for your crimes!”

 

Senator Balkis made a move towards Tristan just as the Jedi lunged towards him and impaled the man with his lightsaber.

 

Things began to happen fast. Tristan used a Force push to shove two of the Separatists across the cave, each crashing into the cave wall with such force neither survived the impact.

 

Senator Jamaren sprinted for the exit as General Davess reached for his blaster. Tristan spun to his right and with his saber swinging, he caught Jamaren’s left arm with a high, arching swing; severing the arm just above the elbow.

 

Jamaren fell to the ground and Tristan spun again, saber held in a two-handed grip as he faced the general.

 

“Come on, boy,” the older man taunted as he raised the blaster in his hand and fired at Tristan.

 

Tristan blocked each incoming bolt as he began working his way towards the man. Within moments he’d reached him and swept his lightsaber out, decapitating the general.

 

“Please, stop,” Jamaren called from the ground where he was crumped, clutching the stump where his arm had been. “You don’t…understand.”

 

Tristan eyed the remaining man as he stalked closer. “I understand perfectly, Senator Jamaren. You swore to serve the Republic and you betrayed that vow.”

 

“No, no, you…you have it all…all wrong,” Jamaren stuttered. “Jade sent us…”

 

Tristan twirled his saber once, twice, three times and plunged it into the chest of Jamaren.

 

Breathing heavily and with his eyes glowing yellow, Tristan looked around. He saw all five of the men he had just killed. They were all traitors and had deserved his wrath. He’d done his duty to the Republic, and to his friend Darex Jade who had trusted these two senators.

 

His saber extinguished, Tristan clipped it to his belt and walked from the cave.

 

/

 

**Skywalker Residence**

 

/

 

Anakin had been awakened by something he could not identify. He slipped from the bed he shared with Padme and wandered onto the balcony.

 

His cloak wrapped tightly around him, he stared out into the Coruscant night. The space lanes were still fairly crowded. The city-planet never went completely dark or silent.

 

Anakin closed his eyes and reached out with the Force; reaching for his mostly-dormant bond with Tristan. He had a vague sense of the young man; feelings of anger and intense emotion were all he could feel.

 

“Ani, are you okay?” Padme’s soft voice carried from inside their bedroom.

 

Anakin’s eyes snapped open and he sighed. “I’m fine.”

 

When he didn’t return, Padme wrapped herself in a thick blanket and stepped outside with him. Standing shoulder to shoulder, she’d never felt as distanced from him as she did in that moment.

 

Anakin looked down at his wife. Possibly for the first time, he realized how small she was next to him. Yet he knew she carried more strength within her than any ten Jedi.

 

“Do you think it’ll ever be the same?” she asked him suddenly.

 

“Do I think what will ever be the same?” he returned, not understanding what she meant.

 

Padme looked out at the city. “Our relationship. Do you think it will ever be the same as it was…before?”

 

Now he understood. Returning his own gaze to the passing speeders, he finally shook his head and answered her as honestly as he could.

 

“No,” was his quiet, pained response. “It can’t be, Padme. Not after…”

 

“Not after I reactivated the clones and…and started this war all over again,” she finished for him.

 

Anakin took a deep breath and turned to face her. He reached out with his real hand and grasped both of hers as their eyes met.

 

“I love you,” he told her. “I have since I first set eyes upon you when I was nine years old. It took me a long time to come to the realization that my duty to the Jedi, _as_ a Jedi has to come first. We’re not fighters, soldiers; it’s not what we were ever meant to be. We are protectors, _keepers_ of the peace and when you and Jade decided to…we’ve been thrust into a situation, again, in which we have no business. We’ve lost so many Jedi in the past year; Garen Muln, Bant Eerin, Master…”

 

“You blame me,” she said, pulling her hands away from him. “You blame their deaths on me and my decision to…”

 

“It’s not about blame, Padme,” he interrupted her. “Decisions were made; ones which I believe were wrong and remain so to this day. For me, that is a simple statement of fact which nothing can change.”

 

“We stand opposed,” she said softly.

 

Anakin nodded. “Yes, we do. Back when the Clone Wars began, we were opposed then as well.”

 

Padme smiled a bit. “You believed the war to be just.”

 

Anakin shrugged. “Not just; necessary, perhaps.”

 

“Now you find it neither just nor necessary,” she commented.

 

“I find very nothing about war just nor necessary,” he said. “War is completely contrary to the sustainment of all life. There is nothing just or necessary in such death and destruction.”

 

“I spoke with Darex about…well, he called it surrender,” she remarked. “I called it strategic retreat.”

 

Anakin stared at her open-mouthed for a moment. “You…why? What changed your mind?”

 

“I’m tired, Ani,” she said. “Tired of the fighting, the death, and the destruction. It’s as you said, there is nothing just or necessary in continuing the fight. What do we have to gain?”

 

“You’re going to surrender?” he questioned. “Then what? This will harm you politically as much if not more than reactivating the clones again did.”

 

“Darex was not in favor,” Padme revealed. “He believes there are some things worth fighting for. He believes that a fractured Republic cannot and will not function.”

 

Anakin sighed. “I hate to say it, but…I agree with him on one point. There are some things worth fighting for, I just don’t believe fighting to hang on to a few worlds which want to secede is one of those things.”

 

“You would have me end the fight and let the Republic be split?” she wanted to know his opinion.

 

“It doesn’t matter what _I_ would do, Padme,” he replied, his tone a bit stern. “It matters what _you_ do.”

 

With that, Anakin turned and headed back inside, leaving Padme standing on the balcony, alone with her thoughts.

 

/

 

**Two Months Later**

 

/

 

Over the past months, Mara had spent much time in meditation when she wasn’t with Master Shaak-Ti. She’d been trying to come to terms with her father’s plans and what they were going to mean for the Jedi, the Republic, and more specifically, for her and the feelings she had for Luke Skywalker.

 

“Something is bothering you, Padawan,” Shaak-Ti said to Mara as she entered the quarters they shared.

 

From her position on the floor, Mara nodded. “Yes, Master. Something.”

 

“Care to share?” the master questioned as she assumed a position next to her padawan.

 

“I wish I could, Master,” Mara replied sincerely.

 

Shaak-Ti frowned. Mara was secretive by nature, which the elder Jedi had always assumed came from the fact that Mara had a politician for a father. But when she considered how little Darex Jade seemed interested in his only child’s training, she wondered if there was more to Mara’s silence.

 

“Well, if you change your mind, I hope you know you can always come to me with any and all problems you may have,” Shaak-Ti offered.

 

Mara turned and their eyes met. “I know. Thank you, Master. I will be going later to see my father.”

 

“Be safe, Padawan,” the master said as she stood and set off to attend to other duties.

 

Mara waited a few moments before she gathered her cloak and set out for her father’s office.

 

/

 

“Have you located a live subject, Governor Verbeke?” Darex asked, covered in his dark robe; face obscured.

 

_”I have,” Verbeke responded. “We have captured a Jedi Padawan. We are ready for the field test as soon as you give the order.”_

 

Darex smiled beneath his cloak. “You may…”

 

“What!?” Mara yelled as she entered her father’s private study in his home.

 

Darex turned sharply when he heard Mara’s voice. His shock was evident on his face as he turned back to the viewscreen.

 

“Do not do anything until I give the order,” he ordered Verbeke. “I will contact you again shortly.”

 

He hit the end key and threw back the cloak. “What are you doing here?”

 

Mara was stunned. “What am I…what the kriff are you doing!?”

 

Darex had always known the time would come for him to reveal his plans. “Sit down, Mara.”

 

Mara reluctantly sat down and stared at her father. “What are you doing with a Jedi Padawan?”

 

Darex quickly explained his plan to test Order 66 in the padawan. He needed to be certain that there were not any flaws within the programming.

 

“You…you weren’t going to destroy the Jedi,” she said softly. “You said…if you destroy them you won’t have your dark army.”

 

Darex smirked at his daughter. “Plans change, my dear. I fear I won’t have my dark army anyway. I will have to make do with Tristan Kenobi, and you, my daughter.”

 

Mara was shaking her head. “No, you…you _can’t_. If you destroy the Jedi, you destroy…”

 

“What? Who?” Darex questioned his daughter. “Do you mean that young man you’re always with? The Skywalker boy?”

 

Mara exploded. “Yes! Father, you can’t do this! Please don’t do this!”

 

Darex was shocked at Mara’s emotional outburst. “Calm yourself, child. There is no other way. The Jedi…”

 

“What about me!?” she screamed as she stood and began pacing the office. “ _I’m_ a Jedi! Did you not think of that? Those clones of yours will kill me, too, Father. They’ll kill Luke.”

 

Darex could see that Mara was only getting more and more upset. He knew there would be no reasoning with her.  So, he changed tactics. He stood from behind his desk and moved to intercept her steps. He pulled his daughter into his arms and rubbed her back gently.

 

“It’s all right, Mara,” he said soothingly.

 

Hating her own weakness, yet not able to stop it; tears coursed down her cheeks as she let her father comfort her.

 

“Please, Father, find another way,” she pleaded.

 

“I will,” Darex said softly. “I will. I promise.”

 

Mara wiped her eyes and backed away from her father. “There’s always another way, Father. You just have to find it.”

 

“I will,” he told her again. “Now, you go back to the temple and try to relax. We’ll speak more tomorrow.”

 

Mara did as instructed. As she left, she didn’t see Tristan waiting to enter as he hid in the shadows.

 

“You can come out now,” Darex called once Mara was out of earshot.

 

Tristan didn’t bother to wonder how Darex had known he was even there. He stepped into the light and pointed back in the direction in which Mara had exited.

 

“She’s pretty upset,” he observed.

 

Darex nodded as he took a seat. “Yes, she is. Please, sit down, my boy. We have much to discuss.”

 

Tristan discarded his cloak and took a seat. “I…dispatched the two senators who were working with the separatist leaders, along with the leaders themselves.”

 

Darex smiled. “Good. I’ll admit I was hoping we would have been able to speak two months ago when you returned to Coruscant.”

 

Tristan scowled. “As was I, Vice-Chancellor. The Jedi have kept me busy. I apologize.”

 

Darex waved a hand. “No need to apologize, my boy. Now that you’re here, I do have a question to ask you?”

 

“Of course,” Tristan said. “What is it?”

 

Darex grinned. “I am in need of a new head of security. Would you be interested in coming to work for me?”

 

Tristan’s blue-gray eyes widened. “I…I don’t know what…what about the Jedi? I can’t just…just leave them. Anakin has…”

 

Darex held up a hand. “I understand what they’ve meant to you over the years, particularly the Skywalker family. But, wasn’t it Anakin Skywalker who forbid you a relationship with the young woman from Dathomir? Wasn’t it Anakin Skywalker who didn’t save your father?”

 

Tristan’s eyes darkened in lightly suppressed anger. There were many things over the years that had made him angry and made him feel less important than Luke, Leia and Arik.

 

“You’re a very powerful and talented Jedi Knight, Tristan,” Darex complimented. “But, and forgive me for saying this, they are wasting your talents. You could be so much more effective as the head of my security detail. You would be in charge, with no one giving you orders. Please, at least think about it.”

 

Tristan cleared his throat and nodded. “I will. You have my word, Vice-Chancellor.”

 

The two shook hands before Tristan exited the office and headed for the temple.

 

Darex watched him go. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and reached out with the Force towards the door. He extended his left hand and slowly, the door began to close. It moved only inches and Darex opened his eyes.

 

“Shavit,” he whispered.

 

Darex was Force-sensitive, but his midi-chlorian count was below what would be considered for a Jedi. His telekinetic skills were basically non-existent. But, his mental acuity was off the charts. His senses were sharp and his shielding was extremely strong.

 

“I will have you on my side, Tristan Kenobi,” he said to himself as he walked over and shoved the door closed.

 

/

 

Tristan had entered the temple and was headed to his quarters with Darex’s words running through his mind. He was so consumed that he didn’t even see Anakin.

 

“Whoa,” Anakin said as he reached out and steadied the younger man. “Where are you headed in such a hurry?”

 

“Just to my quarters,” he answered and attempted to move around the taller man.

 

“Mind if I join you?” Anakin pressed.

 

“Truthfully, yes, I do mind,” Tristan answered. “I’ve been terribly busy and all I want is to rest. So, if you don’t mind, I’d…”

 

Anakin reached out and grabbed his former apprentice by his cloak as he once again tried to move around him.

 

“I do mind,” Anakin practically growled. “To your quarters; we’ll finish this there.”

 

Tristan glared as he shrugged off Anakin’s grasp. “Yes, we will.”

 

Both men walked silently to Tristan’s quarters. Once inside, the young man tossed his cloak aside and turned to face his former teacher.

 

“You have a serious attitude problem,” Anakin pointed out. “You’re always angry, distant, and abrupt when anyone tries to speak with you. I want to know what is going on with you, Tris.”

 

Tristan laughed humorlessly. “What’s going on with me? Nothing, _Master_. Nothing at all. I keep going on mission after mission for the council. I keep watching you dote on Luke, Leia and Arik. Why is it that he’s named after my father?”

 

Anakin was confused. “Where is that coming from?”

 

Tristan paced. “I’ve just always wondered. Luke is named after my father. My father, whom I never met. Where were you when he was killed?”

 

Anakin was becoming angry himself. He took a deep breath and tried to understand why Tristan was angry; why now.

 

“You know where I was, and you know why,” Anakin said softly, trying desperately to defuse the situation.

 

Tristan scoffed. “Oh, that’s right. You were walking a droid to a ship while my father was being _murdered_. All these years and I finally see. You’ve always questioned me. You’ve never allowed me the freedom to choose for myself. You forbid me to see Riema. It’s because of _you_ I don’t have a father!”

 

Anakin reached out. “Tris, calm down and…”

 

“No!” Tristan yelled as he yanked his arm back. “I will not calm down! You and the Jedi, you’re all the same; always telling me what I _can’t_ do. My parents weren’t even allowed to be together because of the Jedi. But, _you_ have children and the rules are changed. Why? What makes you so special?”

 

Anakin felt his hand slip down to the hilt of his lightsaber. He could see anger and hate shining on Tristan’s face, and for the first time he considered the fact that maybe his former apprentice had slipped further than he’d imagined. He’d known Tristan had some trouble controlling his emotions, but what he was now witnessing was on another level.

 

Tristan noticed, and he laughed. “You can take your hand off your saber, _Master_. I’m not dangerous.”

 

It pained Anakin to think it, but he wasn’t so sure that Tristan wasn’t dangerous.

 

In that moment, Tristan made a decision. He reached down to his belt and unclipped his father’s lightsaber. He slowly twirled it in his hands, running his fingers over it as memories of using it on so many missions filtered through his mind.

 

“You can take this one,” he finally said, his eyes meeting Anakin’s.

 

“What?” Anakin flinched.

 

Tristan tossed the lightsaber at him as he spoke. “I won’t be needing it anymore. I’ve decided to resign my position as a Jedi Knight.”

 

Anakin was so stunned he didn’t catch the blade. It bounced harmlessly off his chest and fell to the floor with a thud.

 

Tristan shoved past Anakin and was about to exit the room when Anakin spoke.

 

“Where are you going?” he asked, pain and heartbreak in his voice.

 

Tristan turned around. “Vice-Chancellor Jade has offered me a position as his head of security. I’ve decide to accept.”

 

With that, he pressed the activation stud for the door and walked out of the room and away from Anakin Skywalker.

 

He didn’t see the tears that fell down Anakin’s cheeks as he bent to pick up the discarded lightsaber.

 

Clutching the beloved weapon to his chest, Anakin looked up and closed his eyes.

 

“I’m so sorry, Master,” he whispered to the empty room.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

 

/

 

**One Week Later**

 

/

 

Tristan stepped into Darex’s office in the Senate Building and was stunned by what he saw. Darex had standing in the middle of the room, eyes closed and both hands extended before him. The two chairs that were positioned in front of his desk were each floating about an inch off the floor.

 

Darex was sweating with the effort he was using to try and harness the Force. He was concentrating so hard, he failed to notice that Tristan had entered the room until the younger man cleared his throat.

 

Darex’s eyes snapped open and he grinned at Tristan. The moment had come.

 

/

 

Anakin was wandering aimlessly through the temple when he quite literally ran into his daughter.

 

“Oh, Leia, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said as he reached out to steady her.

 

Leia smiled up at her father and he was at once reminded of Padme; long dark hair, dark eyes and a smile that lit the darkest corners of his heart.

 

“It’s okay, I’m fine, Dad,” Leia answered. “Are you okay? I heard about…about Tris leaving.”

 

Anakin nodded. “I’m sure the entire temple has heard by now. To answer your question; I’m…trying to adjust.”

 

They walked together for a while in silence before Leia spoke again. “Did Mom tell you about…about…”

 

Anakin smirked. “About Ebran Organa’s…question to you before he left?”

 

Leia blushed. “Yes.”

 

Anakin chuckled softly at his daughter’s slight embarrassment. “Oddly enough, no, she didn’t. I spoke with Ebran’s father.”

 

Leia stopped walking. “You…you did?”

 

“I did,” he answered. “Bail had some concerns about his son wanting to get married at such a young age. I assured him I had the same reservations in regards to my daughter.”

 

Leia’s eyes lowered to the floor for a moment before Anakin reached out and tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes.

 

“I also told him that my daughter had a very good head on her shoulders,” he said to her. “That she was sensible and very sure of who she is and what she wants. I told him that I understood Ebran to be a very nice young man who’d had a solid upbringing and if he wished to marry my little girl, and she was agreeable, I supported the idea.”

 

Leia’s eyes brightened and she threw herself into Anakin’s arms, wrapping her own around his waist.

 

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered.

 

Anakin kissed the top of her head. “Tell me when and where and I’ll walk you down the aisle. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

 

Leia laughed softly. “You like Ebran?”

 

Anakin shrugged. “I don’t _dislike_ Ebran. I trust his father. Bail Organa is a good man, an _honest_ man and I don’t doubt his son is the same kind of man. I trust he will take good care of you, should you _need_ taking care of at some point.”

 

Leia laughed at that as well. Her father knew she was about as independent as they came. She got that from her mother as well.

 

The two continued their walk, softly talking and laughing together. It served to take his mind off of Tristan, if only for a moment in time.

 

/

 

“You’re…you’re Force-sensitive,” Tristan gasped, his eyes still on Darex.

 

Darex gave the younger man a nod. “Yes, I am. Oh, my midi-chlorian count is nowhere near as high as yours, but it’s sufficient for my shielding to be quite good.”

 

Tristan didn’t know how to react. He sat down heavily and sighed deeply. “I never…not once did I suspect.”

 

Darex took his seat as well. “Yes, well, the point is to keep _hidden_ , until it is time to strike.”

 

“Strike?” Tristan questioned. “Strike at what? At _who_?”

 

Darex hadn’t planned to reveal his plans this early to Tristan. But, if he had the young man on his side, perhaps it would be best to include him.

 

He leaned forward and took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I have some…unsettling news. Chancellor Skywalker has arrived at the decision that the Republic should effectively surrender the fight and let these Separatist worlds secede. Needless to say, I am opposed.”

 

Tristan didn’t hide his confusion. “Why would she do that? You and she both wanted to stop the secession.”

 

Darex sighed. “Padme has grown fearful, Tristan. She…Senator Lorcan Orath and I both agree that she is no longer qualified to lead the Republic. We are…”

 

“You are what?” Tristan asked with an edge.

 

“We are planning to call for a vote of no confidence in her leadership,” he revealed. “It will result in nominations and the election of a new Chancellor within fifteen days’ time.”

 

“You intend to run?” Tristan wondered out loud. “You and Senator Orath?”

 

Darex smiled. “No, not me, my boy. Senator Orath will run, and we’re fairly certain with the backing of our numerous allies, we will win and we can bring a swift end to all of this secession talk. The clonetroopers can once again be deactivated and peace will reign.”

 

Tristan was quiet for several long moments. When he finally looked up at Darex and spoke, it was in a clear and concise voice.

 

“What can I do to help?”

 

Darex took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to tell you this part. But, I feel you must know the truth about the Jedi Order.”

 

“What truth?”

 

With a shake of his head, Darex spoke in a low tone. “Senator Orath and I have uncovered evidence that Master Skywalker and others have been…collaborating with the Separatists.”

 

The anger in Tristan was quick to take hold. “I knew. I _knew_ something was wrong, that he was hiding something from me. All of them; none of them trust me.”

 

Darex sighed. “I am sorry, Tristan. I wish there was something I could say to make this easier for you.”

 

Tristan shrugged. “There isn’t. But, you can tell me how I can help you. I’m finished with the Jedi. I told Anakin I was resigning to come work for you.”

 

“Governor Verbeke on Arkania has in his possession a Jedi Padawan who was captured in the act of delivering information to a few Separatist soldiers,” Darex told his tale. “We have discovered a contingency order programmed into the clones. Once issued, the clones will turn on their Jedi leaders of they are deemed to be acting in contrast to the best interest of the Republic.”

 

“Turn?” Tristan inquired. “You mean kill, don’t you?”

 

Darex nodded solemnly. “Yes. Should the Jedi become a threat, the clones can be issued an order which instructs them to kill any and all Jedi they come into contact with.”

 

“What about Mara?” he then asked. “She’s your daughter. Are you so willing to eliminate her as an enemy of the Republic?”

 

Darex gave him a thoughtful look. “Of course not. Mara is aware of my…our plans.”

 

“The padawan you mentioned,” Tristan began. “Are you going to…test this order on him?”

 

Darex saw no reason to lie. “Yes, I am. This young man is a traitor to the Republic. I would like you to travel to Arkania and oversee the test. I have already established the fact that the order exists and that it can be issued by anyone. I just require one more field test to be certain.”

 

Tristan stood and nodded. “I will leave immediately.”

 

Darex stood and reached out a hand to Tristan. “When you return, we’ll talk credits and your new position as my head of security.”

 

As Tristan exited the office, Senator Lorcan Orath entered from an outer room where he had been listening to the conversation.

 

“The boy seems anxious to help,” Orath commented.

 

Darex grinned. “Yes, he does. This mission to Arkania will be his final test. He is ready to embrace the dark side. Tristan Kenobi will be a powerful ally.”

 

Orath and Darex sat and began strategizing their next move against Padme.

 

/

 

**One Week Later**

 

/

 

Senator Tanith Reego stepped inside Padme’s office and smiled at his friend as he took the chair she offered.

 

“Are you okay?” he inquired. “That was pretty brutal out there.”

 

Padme shrugged. “I’m fine. I almost…I suppose I should have expected this from Darex. I knew he disagreed with me. Perhaps it was foolish of me to think he was the only one.”

 

Reego cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth to you, I’ve just been told that I am one of the nominees to…”

 

Padme smiled. “To replace me as Chancellor.”

 

Reego nodded. “Yes. After the vote of no confidence, the nominees are announced. If I win, and I intend to, we’ll get this war ended, one way or another. I’ll admit to being surprised that Jade himself isn’t nominated.”

 

Padme was thoughtful. “I agree. I’ve never truly questioned his motives before now, but…I have begun wondering what his angle is in engineering this vote.”

 

“I guess we’ll find out eventually.”

 

Padme nodded as Anakin walked into the office.

 

“I just heard,” he said as he pulled his wife into a tight hug as he nodded at Reego.

 

Tanith stood and smiled at the couple. “I’ll be on my way. Padme, let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

 

“I will,” she replied. “Thank you.”

 

/

 

**Arkania**

 

/

 

Tristan stepped into the office of Governor Verbeke and asked immediately to be taken to the prisoner.

 

“You are?”

 

Tristan glared. “That is no concern of yours. Now, take me to the Jedi prisoner.”

 

Verbeke realized that the young man worked for the hooded figure he had dealt with on so many occasions.

 

“Yes, this way,” Verbeke said.

 

Tristan was led on a path through several concealed rooms before finally coming upon a large holding cell; one young teenage Jedi Padawan as its sole occupant.

 

“Knight Kenobi!” the young man exclaimed. “You’ve come to rescue me?”

 

Tristan could only hear Darex’s words as he stared at the young learner. The boy was no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, yet Tristan knew he’d taken on a mission of betrayal.

 

Tristan looked at Verbeke. “Bring me the clone.”

 

Verbeke did Tristan’s bidding. He scampered off to bring the clonetrooper into the room moments later.

 

Tristan looked at the tall, imposing figure and contrasted it with the small, scared figure of the padawan.

 

“Knight Kenobi, help me,” the boy pleaded. “They’re holding me for…for I don’t even know what. They say I’m a…”

 

“Commander, execute Order 66,” Tristan commanded with no emotion.

 

The clone looked at Tristan. “Who are you?”

 

Tristan hadn’t expected that, but answered anyway. “I am the supreme commander of the Army of the Republic and I am issuing Order 66 for this Jedi.”

 

The clone accepted Tristan’s order and easily grasped the blaster rifle Verbeke handed him. He pointed it at the frightened boy and fired, killing the Jedi instantly.

 

Verbeke flinched, but Tristan remained calm as he stared at the now deceased young Jedi. He knew the boy, had watched him spar with his agemates. He’d appreciated what he’d seen in those sessions; the boy was a natural with a lightsaber and would have been a great Jedi Knight.

 

If only he hadn’t been a traitor.

 

“Knight Kenobi,” Verbeke began. “Are you…”

 

Tristan spun on his heel, ignited the lightsaber he’d been given which had been confiscated from the padawan and in an instant had cleaved Verbeke half in two, just as his father Obi-Wan had done so many years before to Darth Maul.

 

“Sir, you…”

 

Tristan wasted no time in eliminating the clone as well. Darex had been clear in his orders. Once the test was completed, no one in the facility was to be left alive.

 

Systematically, Tristan swept his way through the staff in the facility; all of them dead from their wounds.

 

Tristan, standing in the middle of a room and breathing heavily, had the still-ignited lightsaber in his trembling hand. His blue-gray eyes were blood-shot and glowing yellow.

 

His final test had been given. Tristan Kenobi had fallen to the dark side.

 

/

 

Anakin watched with a critical eye Darex Jade’s reaction to the fact that Senator Tanith Reego had been elected to replace Padme. He smiled outwardly, yet Anakin got a vague sense of something more sinister beneath the surface. Anakin knew Jade had no reason to be happy about Reego being elected. He was too good a friend of Padme’s for that to be the case.

 

Tanith Reego thanked the members of the Senate for their support and assured them that he would lead the Republic to the best of his ability. He publically wished Padme well in her future endeavors.

 

Hours later, Padme was standing on the balcony, silently watching as life went on. Her political career was over. She understood and accepted that as fact. The only bright spot was Tanith being elected as her replacement. It was a bit of a victory since his agenda might more closely resemble what hers had been.

 

“Are you okay?” Anakin asked as he stepped out next to his wife.

 

Padme shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest with you. I knew when I made the decision to reactivate the clones and restart this battle that I was risking a lot, namely my reputation and career. I just didn’t think it would end so…so quickly.”

 

Anakin folded his arms into the folds of his cloak and took a deep breath. “I know you’ll miss it.”

 

She smiled softly. “Yes, I will. But there are other things. I’ve been…”

 

“What?” Anakin questioned.

 

“I’ve started thinking about…returning to Naboo,” she said softly. “Sola and Darred just purchased a property. Ryoo and Pooja are growing up so fast. I haven’t seen them in…”

 

Anakin grasped her hand. “If you want to go back to Naboo, then I think…I think you should.”

 

The sting of tears hit her instantly. Anakin pulled his wife against him; her head against his chest and his chin resting atop her head.

 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Anakin whispered.

 

Padme sniffled a bit. “You didn’t. I feel like I’ve gone from having everything to having…nothing.”

 

Anakin closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “I won’t pretend to understand what it feels like for you right now, but I _do_ know that you haven’t lost _everything_. I’m still here for you, even if I’m here on Coruscant and you go to Naboo. You still have three wonderful children.”

 

Padme smiled slightly. “I know. I suppose I’m…I’m wondering what the future holds; for me, for us.”

 

“I wish I could answer that for you,” he replied. “I wish I could peer into the future and tell you everything will work out the way you want it to. But, I can’t.”

 

She looked up at him and rested her hand against his cheek. “You gave up a long time ago on the notion that a Jedi was all-powerful, didn’t you?”

 

Anakin nodded slowly. “A long time ago in an old mechanics shop.”

 

“I don’t suppose you’d come to Naboo with me?” she asked softly; knowing the answer in her heart.

 

For as long as they’d been married, Anakin had tried to give his wife what she wanted. Now, so many years after their secret wedding and three children, he couldn’t give her this one thing.

 

“Padme, I…” he began and stopped, backing away and turning as he ran his hands through his long locks.

 

“You can’t,” she finished. “I know. I had to ask.”

 

He turned to face her, sadness in his blue eyes. “I was so willing to leave after Obi-Wan died. I didn’t want to be a Jedi anymore. I thought I had failed. Now, I know leaving would _be_ the failure. I _am_ a Jedi, above all.”

 

Padme couldn’t stop the tears. Anakin gathered her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

 

“I love you,” he told her. “More than anything. That will never change, I promise.”

 

They stood together for a long time, just holding onto each other. The moment was interrupted by Anakin’s comlink. He apologized to Padme as he had to leave to return to the Temple.

 

Once Anakin was gone, Padme sat by herself contemplating her next move. She had already made the decision to return to her home planet, but beyond that she had quite a few things to figure out.

 

The hard part was that she also now knew she was going to have to figure it out alone. Anakin wouldn’t be with her.

 

/

 

Darex was sitting in his office when his personal comm alerted him to a message. When he entered his code, he wasn’t surprised to see Tristan’s face staring back at him.

 

“You have news?” he questioned immediately.

 

Tristan gave one nod of his head. “Yes. The test of Order 66 was successful. That traitorous padawan is dead, as are the occupants of the facility and Governor Verbeke.”

 

If Darex was surprised that Tristan was now casually speaking about mass murder, he didn’t show it.

 

“You’ve done well, my young friend,” he said to the former Jedi. “When you return, we’ll discuss your next…mission.”

 

Tristan considered that word; mission. He realized that without even noticing, he’d begun working for Darex Jade. He’d traded one master for another.

 

Tristan found that he did not mind answering to Darex. He found Darex’s methods to be expedient; accomplished without endless discussions he’d suffered as a Jedi.

 

“As you wish, Vice-Chancellor,” he finally spoke. “I’ll return immediately.”

 

/

 

**The Jedi Temple**

 

/

 

Anakin was standing alone in the Council chamber staring out across the city-planet. He imagined Padme beginning to pack her belongings for her return to Naboo. He wondered what it would be like to wake up in the next few days and know she was gone; across the galaxy and not coming back.

 

He was about to turn around and head to his quarters when he felt a shiver run down his spine. He closed his eyes and reached out, but felt nothing but a vague sense of unease. He felt something significant had happened, but he could not touch the event itself.

 

The chamber doors opened and Mace Windu walked in with Yoda beside him in his hover chair.

 

“Felt it, you did?”

 

Anakin nodded as he glanced at the grandmaster. “Yes, but I can’t put my finger on what _it_ might be. I just suddenly felt extremely uneasy. Something has happened, but I only have a very vague sense of it. It’s not close.”

 

“Young Kenobi, it is,” Yoda said.

 

Anakin turned. “What about Tristan?”

 

Mace watched the interplay between the Force’s Chosen One and it’s most trusted champion. Without doubt, Yoda and Anakin were the two most powerful Jedi alive, and when the Force spoke, it usually spoke to one of them first.

 

“Turned, he has,” Yoda nearly whispered. “A rage, he has inside. Powerful, uncontrollable.”

 

“An evil like we’ve never seen,” Mace added.

 

Anakin took a deep breath and closed his eyes once more. He didn’t want to believe that his former apprentice had fallen to the dark side. Yet he could not deny the growing anger the young man had begun to display in the weeks and months leading up to his knighting.

 

“Since he was a child,” Anakin whispered to himself as he reached for the bond he and Tristan once shared. “It’s been there since he was a boy.”

 

All that remained of the bond were the tattered edges of a once-close relationship between student and teacher; father and son.

 

/

 

**The End**


	44. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 

/

 

Years later, Anakin wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone how long he stood in the Council chamber alone after Yoda and Mace had left. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he became lost in memories of the boy he’d raised and loved as a son. He knew deep in his heart that he’d lost Tristan; to the darkness, to his own ambition and selfishness. The young man he’d become had let shadows cover the good boy he’d been and in that child’s place stood a stranger.

 

Minutes, hours; Anakin wasn’t certain, but he finally mustered the courage to square his shoulders and walk from the room. His cloak billowing around his tall frame, he headed to Room of a Thousand Fountains to meditate. He didn’t know when or where, but his senses told him that a confrontation with his former student was looming.

 

Anakin would be ready.


End file.
